


Ghosts

by Keays



Series: Twist of Fate [2]
Category: Alias Smith and Jones
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-04 03:40:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 498,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2908010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keays/pseuds/Keays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Book two</p><p>Heyes may be out of prison but is the prison out of Heyes?  Long recovery with the complications of new relationships and old ones making things even more confusing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> As mentioned in Twist of Fate, the character of Abi was developed by Sarah Whyment. She agreed to co-write Ghosts with me as Abi takes on a much more active role in this story. Once Sarah has re-posted her Abi stories I will let you know where you can go to read them.

Heyes and Karma were once again galloping across the landscape in a joyous exhibition of flight and freedom. Only when he was riding his mare did Heyes actually feel that he was indeed unencumbered and totally without constraint. She was his freedom from the invisible shackles that still bound him and from the anchor that weighed him down with the rules and conditions of living life on parole.  
Oh, this was glorious! The spring day couldn't have been nicer and the breeze whipping his old hat off his head and causing it to fly along behind him, was fresh and clear and full of sunshine. Karma felt good; she had missed her human. And though life at the Double J had many pleasures and bonuses, having her human back with her again was worth all of that and more. If he asked her to leave this sanctuary, leave her children and ride the transient trail again, she would have done it without question. Now that he was back with her she remembered how much she had missed him before the image and scent of him had faded away and her new life had taken over. But now they were together again, no questions asked, no grudges held. They were together again and she was in her glory!  
After two miles of an all out gallop and then three more miles at an easy swinging lope, Heyes finally pulled his mare down to a walk and they both settled in to a pleasant ride across the meadow, just drinking in the greens and blues and the yellows and the sun and the grass and the great cloudless sky.  
Then Heyes pulled up altogether and shading his eyes from the sun he squinted into the near distance, not quite believing that he was seeing what he was seeing. He rode closer but it didn't help to clarify the situation; it just made less and less sense.  
There was a table up ahead, a table covered by a red and white checkered cloth. There were two chairs at the table, with one being occupied by a man whom Heyes could not quite make out. This whole strange arrangement was set out under a large willow tree and there was a gurgling brook running by them, inviting the horseman to come and join in.  
Heyes rode up closer and then stepping down from his mare he approached the table. The man sitting at it then turned and smiled a greeting to his young friend.

“Heyes! About time you showed up. The steaks are getting cold.”

Heyes' face broke out into a huge grin and he gave the man a heart felt hug right where he sat.

“DOC!” Heyes greeted him. “Doc, it's been ages! How are ya'!?”

“Well, I'm still dead, but other than that I'm fine I suppose.” But then his expression drooped. “I'm a little disappointed in you though.”

Heyes felt a little bit of hurt settle into his chest.

“Disappointed in me?” he asked quietly. “Why?”

“C'mon, sit down Heyes. Have a beer,” Doc offered. “I know that's your favourite. And there's a nice steak for ya' too. Dig in.”

“Yeah okay,” Heyes mumbled as he sat down to the meal but he was still feeling hurt and didn't really want to eat. He took a small gulp of the beer and couldn't help but smile. This actually tasted good unlike most of the beer he'd been trying to drink lately. Then he sighed and looked to his friend again. “Why Doc? What did I do?”

“It's not what you did Heyes,” Doc explained. “it's what you haven't done.”

Heyes furrowed his brow; again Doc wasn't making any sense.

“You ignored what I told ya',” Doc continued, seeing Heyes' confusion. “I told ya' it was Carson that fucking prick who murdered me, not Boeman! But you let outside pressure convince ya' that our last meeting was all just a delusion due to you being so close to death an' all.”

“Yeah, well....I know Doc,” Heyes felt like a little schoolboy who was being reprimanded for misbehaviour. “I just....I thought they were right. And the more I came back to the land of the living, the more that conversation drifted away until it did seem like it had just been a dream. I did mention it to my lawyer!” He perked up as he pointed this out, hoping to get some brownie points for that at least.

Morin just tutted and shook his head. “Yeah, but as soon as he suggested that you were looney bins you backed off,” the Doc countered. “It's not easy ya' know! Trying to get those messages to ya'! And then you just ignore them as bad dreams!”

“Oh,” Heyes sounded contrite. “I thought that's all they were.”

“What do I havta do?!” Doc demanded. “Write it all up in a goddam document and get your lawyer to sign it before you'll sit up and pay attention!?”

Heyes hung his head. Doc took pity on the young man's discomfort and came down a notch or two.

“It's not like I'm just asking it for me Heyes,” Morin explained. “That goddam, son of a bitch has got to be stopped! I'm not the only person he's murdered and he's gonna do it again too—you can bet your goddam lucky coin on that!”

“Yeah but....there's no evidence,” Heyes pointed out. “I wouldn't know where to start.”

“You wouldn't know where to start!?” Doc repeated incredulously. “The great Hannibal Heyes wouldn't know where to start!?”

Heyes hung his head again—this was not going well.

“Of all the goddam, fucking lame excuses I've ever heard!” Doc cursed. “All I ask is this one little favour from you and all you can say is; 'I wouldn't know where to start'! Geesh!!”

“Yeah yeah okay,” Heyes grumbled. “I guess that was kinda lame.”

“Hmm,” Doc was in a snit.

Heyes leaned back with another sigh. “So you're sure it was Carson who did it?”

Doc would not honour that question with an answer and simply glared at his friend.

“Yeah yeah alright Doc,” Heyes conceded again. “I suppose.....”

But then suddenly the surroundings changed and the beautiful spring day was no longer in evidence around them. Heyes felt a chill go through him, not just from the lowered temperature, but from the fear that now clutched at his heart and threatened to stop his breathing.  
He was in that dank, cold chamber again, hanging from the ceiling by his arms and his shoulders felt as though they were on fire and he struggled and cried out, trying to break free. The fear and the pain overwhelmed him and he knew he was going to pass out.  
Then he spluttered and choked and gasped for air and opening his eyes he saw Carson sneering at him, the emptied cup of water still dripping in his hand.

“Wake up Heyes!” Carson growled at him. “How do ya' expect to learn anything if ya' keeping passing out on us!?”

Carson laughed and slapped him hard across the face, causing his suspended body to swing against the rope and Heyes screamed out his rage and his agony and tried to fight again, but he was helpless. Carson just sneered at him and then the guard had a pillow in his hands and he turned away from the inmate and glared down at something on the floor.  
Heyes looked closer and saw that it was the Doc, laying there in a ever expanding pool of blood and clutching the gaping wound in his side. The doctor looked up at Carson and he started calling out for help, started trying to scramble away, but he was too weak.  
Carson moved towards him, and kneeling down beside the helpless man, he slapped him hard across the face! Doc tried to fight back but the blow stunned him and then the guard pushed the pillow down on top of the Doc's face and leaned his weight into it.  
Heyes was screaming! He fought against the rope, fought against the air, trying to get to his friend—trying desperately to help him.

“NO! NO! DOC! NO!” and he cried and screamed and fought like a man possessed until he felt the muscles and tendons in his arms and shoulders snap and break free and his joints were pulled from their sockets and his head exploded with the light and he screamed out his torment.....

“Joshua! Joshua, wake up!”

Heyes lashed out at the light burning his eyes and he gasped for air as he scrambled away from the presence in the room. He was pushed up against the headboard of his bed, his blankets clutched up around him as he tried to get away.

“Joshua...it's alright,” said a gentle voice behind the blinding light. “It was just a bad dream. Wake up!”

Heyes breathed in great gulps of air, his heart was pounding so hard he was sure it would burst from his chest and force the blood to break through his eardrums. He was shivering, bathed in a cold sweat and shaking like a leaf.  
The blinding light mellowed out as Belle set the lantern down on the side table and she adjusted the flame so that a soft light now filled the bedroom. Heyes looked at her, still clutching the blanket and gasping for air, but he was awake now and he knew who she was and he knew where he was. He started to calm down.  
Belle smiled and put a gentle hand on his arm and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Are you alright now?” she asked him.

Heyes nodded. “Yeah,” he breathed in between gulps of air. But it was starting to slow down and his heart was not longer attacking the inside of his rib cage. “Sorry. I...didn't mean....ta'...wake you.”

She sat down on the bed beside him. “You didn't wake me. I was already up. I couldn't sleep and thought that I would make some tea.” And just then they both heard the kettle on the stove start to whistle. She laughed. “See? Why don't you join me. A cup of tea might just be the ticket.”

Heyes nodded. “Yeah.”

She smiled again, and patting his knee, she stood up and leaving the light there she made her way back into the kitchen and Heyes could hear her striking up another light so that she could complete making the tea.  
He took a deep breath and gave himself a few more minutes to calm down. He rubbed his eyes and then ran his hands through the stubble that was the beginnings of his hair growing back. He groaned quietly to himself.

“Oh Doc....” he mumbled. “you're just gonna keep on haunting me until I finally get the message, aren't ya'? Well, you can stop now Doc, cause I think I finally got it.”

Then, just as he had done at David's place, Heyes pulled on his socks and grabbing the blanket he wrapped it around himself just as much out of modesty as for warmth this time. He took the lamp with him and padded quietly out to the dinning table and sat down.  
Belle came in from the kitchen with two cups and the tea pot on a tray and setting them down on the table she then embarrassed Heyes a little bit (but not too badly) by giving him yet another of many heartfelt hugs. Then she smiled and sitting down beside him she poured the tea.

“I hope you don't mind,” she said quietly.

“Mind what?”

“It has occurred to me that both myself and Beth give you hugs every time we see you,” she pointed out.

Heyes smiled then too. “No,” he assured her honestly. “I'm not really sure how to respond to them, but it actually feels kind of nice.”

“It's just that we're so glad to have you home again Joshua,” Belle explained. “We've missed you so much. Being able to hug you I suppose helps to reaffirm the fact that you are actually here!”

Heyes laughed softly. “I know what you mean. You and Beth have my permission to carry on giving hugs!”

A slight expression of concern crossed over Belle's eyes as Heyes picked up his tea cup; his hand was still shaking just a little bit.

“Do you have those nightmares often?” she asked him gently.

“Almost every night,” Heyes admitted and then sent a quick glance over to the door of the first bedroom. “I'm surprised Kid didn't wake up.”

“You really didn't make much noise.” Belle assured him. “As I said; I only heard you because I was already awake.”

Heyes nodded acceptance of that.

“Do you want to talk about them?” Belle asked him, keeping her voice gentle and reassuring.

Heyes sent her a quick, self-conscious smile and then contemplated his tea cup again.

“They vary,” he finally said. “Often I'm going through the punishments again only worse.” Then a soft ironic chuckle. “If that can be even possible; the reality of them was bad enough. But in the dreams I'm actually being pulled apart and it's just......”

He stopped then as a tremble went through him, the fear clutching his throat. He took a deep shuttering breath and ran a hand over his hair. Belle tried hard not to be too much of a mother and sat quietly, waiting for him to continue.

“Then the other dream I have over and over again is about the doctor out there who was killed,” Heyes explained to her. “Those dreams are so real, I would swear that they're actually happening and I'm not sure what to do about them.”

“How do you mean?” Belle asked.

Heyes looked at her then, concern and confusion in his eyes. Then he took a deep breath and went for it. “We all know that it was an inmate named Boeman who murdered the Doc—we saw the assault. But now Doc is coming to me in my dreams, insisting that it wasn't Boeman, but the senior guard Carson who actually killed him, and...” here Heyes smiled nervously, preparing to be ridiculed. “and the Doc wants me to prove it and get some justice for him.”

“Well...” Belle stated as she poured more tea. “dreams are very strange things. Most of them don't mean anything at all—simply reactions to what has been going on in our lives and in our waking thoughts—like those punishments. But others can be very vivid and they tend to stay with us when the other dreams fade away. I'm not sure what those dreams mean—if anything. Perhaps it's simply your own sub-conscience that's nagging at you. Maybe you know something about it that you don't know you know.” She smiled. “If you know what I mean.” Heyes nodded. “Remember that day of your arrest Joshua?” 

Heyes' mouth hardened for an instant and a great sadness passed through his eyes. “Yeah,” he whispered.

Belle smiled and put a reassuring hand on his arm again. “Remember what I told you about Beth?” Heyes sent her an enquiring look. “About her premonitions?”

“Oh! Yes,” Heyes nodded. “yes, I remember that now.”

“They came true didn't they?” Belle pointed out. “Not only in the way she hoped they would, but also her insistence that she and Thaddeus had something important to do together—some quest, or mission. Well, obviously that mission was saving you! Getting you out of that horrid place was always on her mind, always her motivation. She did a lot to support Thaddeus throughout those years, encouraged him to keep going on those occasions when he felt like giving up! She's still determined to keep after the Board of Directors in order to bring about some reform. Perhaps she and that guard will end up combining forces.”

“Warden,” Heyes corrected her. Belle's eyebrows asked the question. “Kenny's the warden out there now.”

“Oh, of course!” Belle laughed. “I'd forgotten that—so many changes!”

Heyes hardly heard her, he was contemplating his tea cup. “I owe Beth a lot,” he said quietly. “She accomplished so much more than I ever would have thought possible.”

“Yes she did,” Belle agreed, pride in her daughter shining through. “But the point I'm trying to make here is that there is so much more to who we are and what we are capable of than what we are even able to understand. I can't explain Beth's premonitions, but there is certainly no denying them. It's the same thing with these dreams you're having. Just because you don't understand them at this point, doesn't mean there isn't something to them. Perhaps it is something that's worth looking into. At the very least, you could talk to David about it, he might have a better understanding of these things. I don't know.” 

Heyes sighed and took another drink from his cup, his expression thoughtful. “David does seem to have certain insights into a lot of different things, but....” he shrugged. “I donno. I seem to be burdening him a lot these days.”

Belle laughed. “He lives for things like this!” she insisted. “I don't think I've ever met a young man with David's sense of compassion for people. It's as though he feels that he's not fulfilling his purpose in life if he isn't helping someone.” She patted Heyes' arm again. “I wouldn't worry about 'burdening' him, Joshua and he just might be able to help you, if not with the dreams themselves then at least in letting you get a good night's sleep.”

“I'll drink to that!”

 

The next morning Belle and Beth were up early and busy getting everything ready for the family visit that had been so eagerly anticipated by the feminine contingency of the Jordan extended family. Well, that's not entirely true actually—Jesse was also looking forward to his eldest daughter coming to see them. Not only to reassure himself of her continued well-being after the difficult birth of her first child, but to also meet his first grandchild as well. This was a special day for everyone.  
The train from Denver had arrived fairly late the previous evening, so the young Granger family, along with Clementine had stayed at the hotel for what remained of the night. The following morning, Jesse had harnessed up Monty and driven into town himself to pick them up and bring them out to the ranch. The Gibson's were also going to be joining the gathering out at the Double J for the belated 'welcoming home' party so it was going to be a full house. Everyone was excited; like Christmas and the 4th of July all rolled into one!  
Heyes had spent the morning brushing Karma and getting re-acquainted. He had forgotten how soothing it could be to stand quietly in a barn yard on a warm spring day and simply spend time with his horse. To add to this serene picture, the three dogs were also in attendance but were stretched out in the sunshine, snoozing and daydreaming and occasionally flicking an ear at an early fly.   
He was still occupying himself with this pleasurable pass time when he heard the jangle of harness and the clop clop of horses hooves coming down the lane, informing him that the beginnings of their company had indeed arrived. He stepped away from his horse and glanced down the lane and then smiled in anticipation.  
Both surrey's were coming together; the Jordan/Granger brood in one conveyance and the Gibson party in the following one. Heyes stepped out to take the head of the leading horse so that Jesse could step down and take over that position and then before he knew it he was being surrounded by feminine attention.

“Oh Joshua—I mean Hannibal!” came Bridget's high pitched greeting. “How wonderful to see you!”

“Heyes!” Clementine was a close second. “Haven't you gained any weight yet? You still look like a drowned scarecrow!”

Heyes grinned as both ladies were instantly upon him and hugs and kisses reigned supreme. He laughed with their contagious high spirits.

“Hello Bridget! Hey Clementine!” he greeted them back. “Ohh! It's so good to see you!”

It was then that Steven joined the group and Heyes looked up from the gaggle of female attention and noticed the small bundle that was being gently carried in the proud father's arms.

“Oh,” Heyes breathed a smile. “Is that Rosie?”

Both Bridget and Steven beamed their pleasure. 

“Yes,” Bridget radiated love. “Come and meet her Hannibal, she's so precious.”

Heyes stepped forward and peered into the bundle, and then much to the ex-con's surprise, Steven settled the little creature into his arms. So before Heyes had a chance to decline the honour, he found himself cradling the infant and looking down into a quiet chubby little face accentuated by tiny clenched fists.  
Heyes grinned and with his free arm he gave Bridget an embrace and kissed her on the forehead.  
Bridget put her arms around her friend and hugged him close.

“We were thinking of calling her 'Hannibal' if she'd been a boy, but then for a girl, we thought...Hannah-Belle...?”

“Ha!” Heyes laughed. “Don't you dare!” Then he smiled over to Steven. “She's perfect just the way she is.”

Then Heyes happened to glance over at the house and met the eyes of his cousin. Jed was standing on the front porch, watching this exchange and smiling with delight. It did his heart good to see Heyes surrounded by friends and family and so obviously enjoying himself and feeling like he did indeed belong here. The two friends locked eyes for a moment and then Heyes again gazed down at the infant in his arms.  
He gently stroked her face and then, just as J.J. had done to Jed five years before, little Rosa responded by emitting a huge yawn and then clamping down on the finger with her tiny fist and refusing to let go.  
Heyes just couldn't look at her long enough to take her in. He seemed lost in a world all his own and remembering the last time he'd held an infant girl in his arms and thought how beautiful she was.  
Then she started to fuss a little bit and a cry was beginning to take a foothold so Heyes wisely decided it was time to hand the infant back over to her mother. Bridget took her in her arms and began to sooth her and then hugged her close.

“I should go inside and feed her,” the new mother announced. “She probably is quite hungry after the excitement of the train ride and the night at a new hotel.” 

“Yeah alright.” Heyes agreed. “I'll see you in there.”

The Granger's headed over towards the house and Heyes looked up to find himself locking eyes with Miranda. She and the Gibson's had arrived right behind the Granger's and had exited their surrey just in time to witness the exchange between Heyes and the infant. Tricia and David were busy talking to Jesse, since they had already had their introductions to the new arrival, but Miranda had hesitated and found herself mesmerized by this 'conman' who seemed so entranced by the new little life form.  
Realizing that she had been caught staring, Miranda smiled and then looked away. She felt very confused. From the descriptions that others had given her of this man she had expected either a loud, boisterous lout or a quiet, smooth talking perhaps even a bit slimy confidence man trying to weasel his way into her trust. Or perhaps those were just the images she had conjured up for herself in order to stay safe from him.  
Whatever the reason for her preconceptions, this man was quite different from anything she had imagined. That first night when they had arrived from Laramie she had been caught off guard by his genuine demeanour. She had been all prepared to dislike him. He was an outlaw, having done time in prison! He was a master at deception, at manipulation; he could not possibly be likeable, he could not possibly be vulnerable!  
She was not some flighty maiden who was easily impressed! She was a widow woman who was well aware of men and their seductions and she had prepared herself to not be taken in by him. But then he had looked so flustered over the mistaken identity in the Gibson's kitchen that she had felt her heart go out to him. But that wasn't 'love'--certainly not! She wasn't looking for that yet, she wasn't ready for that yet! It was simply compassion.  
And then he had taken her hand and looked into her eyes and her heart had skipped a beat or two. And the moment seemed an eternity and she looked at him and didn't see a bald headed scrawny ex-convict, or a slick, overbearing conman. What she saw was a gentle soul and warm heart and though she wasn't quite ready to accept it yet; from that moment on she was lost in him.  
And now again, she had been caught staring! She quickly turned away and followed Clementine into the house to see if Belle needed any help getting the meal prepared. There was always plenty to do to keep the ladies busy while the men stood around chatting. Always plenty to do.

The mid-day dinner was an unqualified success, of course! Beth and Bridget sat down on either side of their friend and one or the other of them always had a hand on his lap or touch to his arm and occasionally even an all out hug from the side, filled with smiles and fondness.  
Heyes wasn't quite sure how to respond to so much physical affection, but eventually he simply accepted it. Occasionally he would send a self-conscious smile over to Steven or to Jed, knowing that these were their ladies giving him so much attention, but neither of them seemed to mind. In fact, Jed himself was grinning from ear to ear and couldn't have been more pleased with the support that his partner was receiving from the two young women.   
Steven didn't seem to mind either and though he sent the occasional glance over to his wife, he spent much of the time talking with Jesse and David. Both those gentlemen, along with Belle were being very patient and supportive of Steven with his apparent obsession with his new daughter. Apparently it was all the young man seemed capable of talking about!  
Tricia, Clementine and Miranda floated about the conversations at the table and joined in on which ever one caught their interest at any given moment. Tricia and Belle enjoyed listening to Steven talking about his new family, but Clem and Randa found it hard to relate and joined in with Beth and Bridget talking about the horses and the ranch and the up coming dances that were planned. Clem was constantly cajoling Heyes into eating more, since his appetite still seemed to be lacking despite the excellent meal whereas Randa simply enjoyed listening to the flow of the conversation.  
After the meal was over and the clearing up quickly dispensed with, everyone broke up into groups and carried on with conversation. Coffee had been put on and things seemed to be settling down into a quiet afternoon. But then, of course when children are present, pandemonium is bound to break out sooner or later and sure enough all three youngsters started expressing their negative views all at the same time. Or, more precisely; one got started with the complaints and the other two just naturally joined in!  
Heyes was finding this all a little too much too soon and with a freshly poured cup of coffee, he discreetly made his exit out to the front porch and settled himself into one of the chairs there. He really appreciated the warm affection and loving support that he was receiving here on this day, but, as stated, he was finding it all somewhat overwhelming. The three children starting in on their verbal complaints was the final straw and he had to get away for some quiet.  
He sat back in the chair with a deep contented sigh and took a sip of his coffee. He smiled as he savoured the strong flavour of it, secure in the knowledge that his taste buds were finally getting back to normal. Maybe he could enjoy a nice juicy beef steak right about now. Hmm, time to have a talk with the chef—this was a cattle ranch after all!  
The day was perfect. Not too hot but just warm enough to be pleasant. It was a beautiful day and Heyes smiled to himself. He knew he still had a long ways to go to recover from the ordeals of his incarceration but, at least when he was awake, he knew that he was indeed a relatively free man. Yes; there were conditions to his freedom but he could live with those—for now anyways. It was a whole lot better than the alternative!  
One of the barn cats suddenly appeared out of nowhere and jumped up onto his lap. Heyes was startled slightly but quickly regained his composure as the feline began to purr and need his leg. Heyes smiled and began to scratch the cat behind the ears and it leaned into his hand and assisted with the rubbing. 

“Ouch! That hurts you know,” Heyes commented as the needing became more intense. But the cat just purred louder and demanded more attention. Funny thing, Heyes mused; cats never used to come up to him.

It was then that he heard the screen door open and close and the cat made an instant dash for cover as Heyes glanced up to see who was joining him. Miranda stopped short, almost spilling her own cup of coffee in her consternation at finding herself intruding on another's privacy. 

“Oh! Hannibal. I'm sorry,” she apologized. “I didn't realize you were out here.”

“No, that's quite alright,” Heyes smiled at her as he stood up and offered her his chair. “Please, sit down.”

“Oh don't be silly,” she said, waving him aside. “Sit back down! There are plenty of other chairs here.”

And in proving the point, she grabbed another chair and pulling it over, sat down beside a grinning Heyes.

“I hope you don't mind,” she continued. “I didn't mean to intrude on you, but I'm just not used to all this noise. I never had children of my own and I even find Nathaniel a bit tiring at times. So to get all three of them going at once! It's just beyond my bearing.”

“No apologies necessary,” Heyes assured her. “Why do you think I'm out here?”

Randa settled back in her chair and taking a sip from her coffee, she contemplated the man sitting across from her. She really had no idea what to make of him. Even the descriptions from people who knew him well were full of contradictions and ambiguities. She found herself attracted to him, but afraid of the attraction as well.  
There was a strained silence for a moment and both took a sip of coffee. Heyes, who normally was a very confident heterosexual found himself unsure of the next move. He knew he was attracted to this woman but didn't know if he was ready to pursue it or not. His encounter with Marion was still too fresh in his mind and he was scared to death of making a mockery of himself again.  
Finally he picked what he thought would be a safe topic.

“Kid tells me that you're a widow,” he stated, trying to be casual and then instantly regretted the remark as being far too personal. Obviously he didn't know Miranda very well yet and hadn't come to realize that to her, nothing was too personal. She had focused on something else.

“Kid?” she asked, slightly confused. And then....”Ohhh, you mean Jed.”

Heyes smiled, feeling out of the loop. “Yes, I suppose I mean Jed.”

“Nobody really calls him 'Kid' here—well except for your friend, Clementine and I've only just met her,” Miranda explained. “It sounds odd to me but if it's what you're used to.”

“I suppose everyone has moved on,” Heyes commented. “perhaps it's time I did too.”

“Don't do it on my account!” Randa insisted. “Both of you seem to have more names than royalty! It's just a matter of picking one you like and sticking with it!”

Heyes nodded.

“And to answer your question; yes. I am a widow.”

“I'm sorry,” Heyes responded. “I didn't mean to pry.”

“Oh, pry away!” Randa told him. “Everyone here knows it anyways—it's not like it's a secret.”

Heyes smiled again, another sip of coffee. “How do you like living here in Brookswood?” he finally asked her, thinking that this was probably a more suitable question to ask someone he hardly knew.

Miranda smiled and sat back with a sigh. “I do like it here,” she stated. “I wasn't too sure at first, it's quite a bit smaller than what I'm used to. But the people are very nice,” Then her smile turned to what might have been called 'shy' if Miranda could ever be considered shy. “and the more people I meet the more I like the town.” She sent him a slightly coyish look.

“That's nice,” Heyes responded, the subtle hint going right over his head. He really wasn't on top form these days. “So do you think you'll be staying?”

“I think so, yes. I'm already looking around for a place to buy,” she admitted. “I've been staying at the boarding house but I still seem to spend most of my time over at Trich and David's place. So I think it's probably time I got my own abode. So I suppose that means that I'm staying.”

“Good,” Heyes smiled at her. “Give us a chance to get to know one another.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

Then the screen door opened again and Jesse poked his head out.

“Here's where you two have gotten to,” he observed. “C'mon back inside....” he smiled slyly. “...something important is about to happen!”

“Oh!” Heyes commented and then standing, he offered his free hand to the lady.

Randa smiled and accepted it and the two of them entered the house together.

Sure enough, the children had all been settled down either to play or sleep and the adults of the gathering were all standing around the table again. Jesse was taking down a bottle of 'the good stuff' while Belle was discreetly getting glasses ready. Beth and Jed were standing at the head of the table, both of them looking nervous, but pleased as well.  
As soon as Heyes entered the room, Jed met his eye and smiled. Heyes nodded back to him, pretty sure he knew what was about to happen. Everyone was in an expectant silence—this had been a long time coming, after all!

Jed nervously cleared his throat and took hold of Beth's hand. “Well now that you're all here,” he started. “we have an announcement to make. I know it's been a long time coming and some of you...” a quick glance to Heyes here.... “didn't mind telling me that I was taking too long, but certain things had to happen first and well, now they have. So, with Jesse and Belle's permission I have asked Beth to be my wife and she has most graciously accepted my offer.”

A huge collective sigh of relief went around the table and then everyone was coming forward to congratulate the couple with handshakes and back slaps and kisses on the cheek.

“Finally!”

“That's wonderful! When is the big day?”

“Oh dear!” came Clem's voice from the crowd. “another wedding to plan—a best friend's job is never done!”

“It's about time! Beginning to think you were never going to get around to it!”

“Well, come on everyone!” Jesse announced as he commenced to pour spirits into the glasses. “A toast to the happy news—and the happy couple!”

“Here, here!”

Everyone gathered around and helped themselves to a glass. Heyes procured two and handed one to Randa who smiled at him with sparkles in her eyes. Heyes was grinning over at his partner; he was genuinely pleased for him, but a little anxious too. Their lives were moving ahead so quickly now. So many changes, so many new relationships that the ex-convict felt his head spinning. This was going to change their lives and though it was bound to happen sooner or later, and Heyes had pushed his cousin to go for it, now that it was happening, Heyes couldn't help but feel just a little scared. And a little jealous.  
Then he felt a gentle hand on his arm. He glanced down to find Randa sending him a quizzical look.

“Are you alright?” she mouthed quietly.

Heyes smiled, not realizing that he had been that easy to read.

“Yes,” he assured her.

Then Jesse called the room to attention.

“Now, I'm sure that everyone in this room is acquainted with the history of these two fine young men we have living with us now,” he began with a smile to both Heyes and Jed, and then those two gentlemen sent each other quick, almost embarrassed smiles. “Who would have thought that their chance meeting with my wife nearly ten years ago would have brought us all here to this place, on this day. We knew, way back then that you were family—both of you. And like with all families we've had our ups and downs.” This was met with some chuckles and head nodding. “But now we stand here at the announcement of Jed and Beth's betrothal and I could not be happier. Indeed, both of my daughters have chosen well. Bethany, I could not be prouder of you. You have grown into a beautiful young woman and I still marvel at your tenacity and your wisdom.”

Beth smiled at her father, fighting tears. “Thank you Papa.”

“And after you're a married woman, I still expect you to keep the books here!” Jesse reminded her. “Goodness knows we would probably go under if it was left to me!” This comment was met with more laughing and some head nodding. Everyone knew that Beth was the one who had a head for business.  
“Jed, it was a little shaky at first I have to admit,” Jesse continued. “but you've stayed the ground and you've proven yourself over and over to be worthy of my daughter. I won't say 'welcome' to the family since I just stated that you already are family, so perhaps I should just say that I'm pleased that you decided to make it official.” Then Jesse raised his glass. “To Jed and Beth, on the occasion of their betrothal!”

Everyone raised their glasses and clinked onto as many other glasses as they could.

“Hear, hear!”

“To Jed and Beth!”

“Finally!”

“About time!”

“Ahh, I'd like to say something if I may,” Heyes requested, feeling a little awkward.

Everyone quieted down and all eyes turned to Heyes. He smiled nervously and could feel Miranda's hand gently squeeze his arm. He wondered fleetingly why that would make him feel comforted.

“Well,” he began with a deep breath. “I'm real happy for ya' Kid—or perhaps I should be calling you Jed now. I don't know—you'll always be 'Kid' to me I suppose. Anyway, I know you both waited a long time for this and I know why you waited. I kept on telling you not to—that you should just get on with your lives, but deep inside I suppose I'm glad you didn't listen to me. You were always there for me Kid, even when I pushed you away you kept right on coming back and I want to thank you for that. You're the best partner a man could have.”  
Then he turned to the young lady who was holding onto his partner's arm. “Beth, you have a man there who can be just as stubborn as you are, just as tenacious and just as loyal and true and I want to thank you, from the bottom of my heart. You have no idea how scared I was that he was going to wind up marrying one of the 'needy' folk! Thank you for stepping in and preventing that disaster!”   
Everyone laughed. Jed grinned over at his partner, shaking his head. Trust Heyes to come out with that one. Heyes raised his glass. “To Jed and Beth; two of the best friends a man could ever have.”

“Here, here!”

“To Jed and Beth!”

More clinking of glasses and drinking of spirits, not to mention more back slapping and then everyone started to mingle. Beth came straight over to Heyes and hugged him.

“Thank you Hannibal,” she said. “I'm just so pleased that you're here with us now and that you'll be at our wedding.”

“Well thank you,” Heyes returned. “You had a lot to do with bringing all this about and I'm never going to forget that.”

She smiled and hugged him again. Then her sister called her from the other side of the room.

“Beth!” Bridget waved her over. “Come on! We want to see your ring!”

“Oh yes! Of course!” and then with a quick kiss to Heyes' cheek and a squeeze to her betrothed arm, she hurried over to the group of females and the high spirited admiration began.

Jed turned to his cousin and shook his hand.

“Heyes, thank you,” he said. “Are you okay with this? I know it's a lot all at once.”

Heyes smiled, waving Jed's concerns away.

“No I'm fine,” he said. “I'm happy for ya' Kid, really.”

“Heyes?”

“Hmm?”

“The 'needy' folk?”

“Well! I have to admit you had me worried there on occasion!” 

Jed laughed and pulled his cousin into a hug “Naw—I think I'm done with the needy folk for awhile!”

“Good.”

“Ahh Hannibal,” Randa broke in on them. “I think I'd better do the supportive woman thing and go admire Beth's ring. I'll see you later.”

“Oh yes,” Heyes smiled at her. “I'll look forward to it.”

Heyes looked round again and found Jed grinning at him with that wicked sparkle in his eye.

“What?” Heyes asked him.

“What!” Kid repeated and then laughed again. “Don't give me that! I'm seein' sparks!”

“What?” Heyes tried to sound innocent. “You mean between me and Miranda?”

“Uh huh,” Kid nodded.

“Oh no....I mean....no. That's nothing.”

“Uh huh.”

Then David joined the partners and shook Jed's hand.

“Congratulations Jed,” he said. “Nice to see it all finally coming together.”

“Yeah David. Thanks.”

“Any ideas as to the date?”

“Ahh, can't say as we've really discussed that part yet,” Jed admitted. “Probably later in the summer.”

David nodded. “Summer weddings are always nice.” He took a sip of his drink and then looked to Hannibal. “How are you holding up Han? Belle tells me you're still having those bad dreams.”

Heyes' shoulders slumped. There is just no keeping secrets in a small town. Still, he had planned on talking to David about it anyways.

“Belle knows about your nightmares?” Jed asked.

“Well yeah,” Heyes admitted. “She walked in on one of them the other night.”

“WHAT!” Jed was instantly alarmed. “She didn't touch you did she?”

Heyes furrowed his brow. “No,” he answered him, wondering at the concern. “She woke me up with the light from the lamp.”

“Oh good.” Jed was instantly relieved.

“Yes,” David agreed. “It's not wise to touch someone who's having a nightmare. The person who's asleep could think that you're actually part of the dream and lash out at you.”

“Yeah, no foolin'!” was Jed's caustic remark. “I found that out the hard way.”

Both Heyes and David sent Jed speculative looks.

“Did you wake Hannibal up from one of his nightmares?” David asked him. “by touching him, or shaking him?”

“I don't remember that,” Heyes commented.

“Well that's cause ya' didn't wake up!” Kid told him. “You damn near choked me to death and you were asleep the whole dang time!”

“Oh,” Heyes swallowed and paled slightly.

“Aww jeez Heyes,” Kid was instantly contrite. “I'm sorry. There I go mouthin' off again. I wasn't even gonna tell ya' about that.”

Heyes looked down at the floor. “I'm sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn't mean....”

“No, I know ya' didn't mean to Heyes,” Jed put a hand on Heyes' shoulder. “You were asleep. That's why I wasn't gonna say anything. And I shouldn't 'a.”

“No, actually it's a good think you did,” David assured him. “It's important that you know how serious these nightmares are, Hannibal. It's not surprising that you would be suffering from them at this point, but I think you still need to talk about them. Get them out in the open. I'll be finished my rounds in the morning tomorrow, why don't you come by after lunch and we'll talk.”

Heyes looked a little reluctant but accepted the offer anyways.

“Yeah alright David. I'll come by.”

“Good! We can work on your shoulders then too!”

Heyes groaned; he'd walked right into that one.

“Anyway, it's probably time we headed for home,” the doctor announced and then downed the rest of his drink in one go. “I just need to collect the two ladies and track down the wayward son! Jed, again; congratulations. I won't say you'll make a fine couple, because you already are that. It's just nice to see it all coming together for you.”

“Yeah, thanks David,” the two friends shook hands again and David went off in search of his wife.

Heyes and Kid locked eyes.

“I'm sorry Kid,” Heyes apologized again. He just couldn't believe he'd done that.

“No, Heyes. C'mon,” Jed smiled at him. “Everything's alright, and I learned a real valuable lesson!” Then he wrapped his arm around his cousin's shoulders and steered him over towards the table. “Have another drink Heyes, on me! We're celebrating!”

“YEAH!”

 

Spring moved into summer and Heyes was slowly beginning to feel like his old self again. His hair was growing back even to the point where Belle had to cut it to keep it from totally taking over his head. He was slowly putting on weight, too slowly according to some but still in accordance with who he was. And though he had not been able to finish his first piece of steak he had enjoyed in immensely and had even managed to keep it down.  
Jesse was working him lightly, keeping him busy tending to the home barn and livestock and Heyes was actually enjoying it. He could feel himself getting stronger, getting back into condition and the warm summer days made working outside a pleasure. Especially when he could take time out to spend time with his mare.  
The bond between them hadn't needed any time to reestablish itself, it'd been there right from that first day of his return. Even in the mornings when Heyes would enter the barn for the first feeding, her nicker of greeting was just as much for his company as it was for the anticipated meal. She'd nod her head as he approached her stall and would nibble on his buttons and breathe tickling whiskers into his neck and he'd laugh and stroke her head and whisper endearments to her. She was in her glory, and with her, he was slowly beginning to heal.

“How are things going between you and Miranda?” Kid asked his partner while they were out mending fences.

Heyes shrugged. “I donno,” he mumbled and then proceeded to bang a nail into the post, securing the wire in place.

The two men were sitting in the grass along the fence line, tackling a particularly nasty tangle of barbed wire and getting it all straightened out so it could be reattached to the post. Karma and Gov were happily grazing close by with no intentions of going anywhere.

“What do ya' mean 'Ya' don't know'?” Kid pushed. “You've been seeing her haven't ya'?”

Heyes shrugged again. “Yeah. Sorta. Casual like, you know.”

Kid put down his hammer with a sighed, feeling a little frustrated with his friend's ambiguousness . “Well, the 4th of July dance is coming up pretty quick, have ya' asked her to go with ya'?”

“No.”

“WELL WHY NOT!?”

Heyes cringed and then shrugged again. “I donno. Do ya' think I should?”

Kid looked at his cousin with mouth hanging open. He still had a hard time dealing with this new 'Heyes'; he just wasn't used to seeing his cousin so insecure and undecided about issues that the pre-prison Heyes would have had no trouble at all dealing with.

“Yeah I think you should ask her,” Jed finally stated, trying to keep his tone neutral and his frustration hidden. “You like her don't ya'?”

“I guess.”

“She obviously likes you,” Jed stated. “so what's the problem?”

Heyes busied himself with beating up a nail. 

“Heyes—what's the problem?”

“I donno,” another shrug. “I just....I don't think I'm ready yet.”

“What's there to be ready for?” Kid asked him. “It's not like you're gonna.....you know. Not on a first date! It'll just be fun. You'll see; we always have a good time at the 4th of July dance—everybody will be there. And believe me, if you don't ask Miranda to go with you, there's a couple of other fellas who wouldn't mind, I can tell ya' that!”

“Really?” Heyes asked him. “Maybe she'd rather go with someone else.”

“Heyes, just ask her will ya'?” Kid pushed him. “Let the lady decide for herself. Okay?”

Heyes smiled quietly, “Yeah, okay.”

“Good! Glad we got that settled,” Jed grumbled and then went back to untangling wire. “Maybe after that we can go visit Kenny and his family. You want to do that next month Heyes? You up to that?”

“Yeah I suppose,” Heyes sounded a little nervous about it though. “I'm not looking forward to reporting in to that Sheriff, but if Kenny can let him know before hand that we're coming, and why –maybe he'll be nice about it.”

“Good. I'll send Kenny a telegram to let him know and we'll go see him,” Kid decided. “We can go meet up with Lom too if you want. You can meet his wife.”

“They'll be coming to your wedding won't they?” Heyes asked.

“Yeah I expect so,” Kid agreed. “but that's not until the end of August. Don't you want to meet Martha?”

“Yeah of course I do Kid,” Heyes insisted. “Of course. It's just....yeah, of course I do.”

Jed frowned and sent a look over to his cousin, but Heyes ignored him and busied himself with the banging of nails.

 

A couple of days later Heyes was once again sitting in David's office with his shirt off and his jaw clenched.

“Try to breathe Hannibal,” David advised yet again.

“I know! I am trying!” Heyes sounded exasperated. “Is there ever going to be time when this doesn't hurt?”

“We'll get there,” David assured him. “It took a long time for Jed to heal up, but he's doing quite well now, isn't he?”

Heyes nodded, “Yeah. He is.”

“We'll get you there too,” David told him. “It's just takes time.”

“Hmm.”

“You're looking better though,” David noticed. “You've put on a little weight and getting some muscle tone back. How are you feeling? Have the nightmares eased off at all?”

Heyes sighed as David massaged some salve into the now sore muscles.

“Not really,” Heyes admitted. “The sleeping draft you gave me does help, and it does seem to calm the worst of the nightmares down but I'm still getting them.”

“Dr. Morin still haunting you?”

Heyes gave a sardonic laugh. “Yeah! He's been getting downright insulting too,” he admitted. “I just don't know what to do about it. My brain just doesn't seem to want to go there. Whenever I think back to that day in the infirmary, nothing makes sense. If it was Carson who killed the Doc after we left, I just don't know how to prove it. I have nothing to go on.”

“Hmm,” David thought about it. “Is there anybody else who was there who might know something more?”

“Yeah,” Heyes told him. “Harris! But nobody knows where he is. A couple of our friends are looking for him—oh! Well, Kyle! You remember Kyle, from the prison?”

“Oh yes,” David nodded. “That odd little man who always seemed so happy.”

“Yeah,” Heyes agreed with a smile. “Well apparently Kid and Steven Granger are paying Kyle and well, an associate of his to track Harris down, but he's gone to ground and he's not too likely to give himself up for this. Morin was nothing to him.”

“Given the right incentive, he might be willing to talk,” David pointed out. He had noticed Heyes' hesitation in giving away too many details but decided to ignore it. Some things were best left alone. “If your friends do find him, perhaps some sort of agreement can be reached in exchange for any information. You never know.”

“Yeah,” Heyes didn't sound too optimistic. “Well, we're going to go visit Kenny next month. Maybe he'll have some ideas.”

“Yes. He strikes me as a very resourceful individual,” David observed. “I'm sure he'll be of help. In the mean time though, you still need to take things easy. Don't push yourself too hard. You still have a lot of things to adjust to here and your dreams are letting you know that you're still trying to deal with it all. One step at a time. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

Then they heard the front door opening and women's voices coming down the hallway.

“Sounds like the ladies are back from shopping,” David announced.

Then the sound of thump, thump, thumping of little boy feet running towards the office, instantly followed by the door banging open and the little boy himself putting in an appearance.

“Papa! We're home!”

“Yes I heard,” David commented.

Nathan saw the visitor and brightened up even more. “Han'bul! We're home!”

Heyes smiled at him. “So I see.”

Then Nathaniel's childish brow furrowed and he pursed his lips. “Wha's those lines on you' back?”

“Nathan, what did I tell you about coming into my office?” his father interrupted. “What are you supposed to do?”

Nathan instantly looked contrite and shuffled his feet. “I suppose ta' knock first and then wait 'till you say 'okay'.”

“That's right,” David told him. “I'm with a patient now. You go back to the kitchen and help your mother. Hannibal will come out and see you when we're done.”

“Yes, Papa.”

Looking at the two men under his brows, Nathan reached up to grab the door handle and then closed the door as he backed out of the office. Instantly the reprimand was forgotten and the thumping of little boy feet could he heard heading back towards the kitchen again.

“Momma want help?” the distant query drifting back to them.

Heyes chuckled.

“Sorry about that,” said David. “Curiosity before manners I'm afraid.”

“He's a fine boy David,” Heyes told him. “No need to apologize.”

David grinned. “Okay, I think we're done here for now,” he said. “Put your shirt back on and I think we can go for a week now before your next treatment.”

“Oh!” Heyes was pleased about that.

“Just remember to keep up with the stretching,” the doctor reminded him. “That's important.”

“Yes I know,” Heyes commented dryly. “Kid won't let me get away with forgetting about it.” 

“Good!”

And the two men made their way out towards the kitchen while Heyes tucked in his shirt and collected up his belongings. Then suddenly he felt very awkward when he found himself in Miranda's company again. He smiled at her and then looked away, biting his lower lip.

“Find anything interesting?” David asked his wife.

“Maybe,” Tricia answered him. “We went to take a look at that nice little cottage just one block over from here. You know, the one that the Mulroney's have for sale? I think Miranda likes it.” And she smiled over at her cousin.

“Yes!” Randa agreed. “It's perfect. I think I'll go speak with the seller tomorrow and see what we can arrange.”

“Well good,” said David. “That is a nice little place, and close enough to be handy. If you have any problems setting up the sale let me know. I'll vouch for you.”

Miranda smiled and nodded her thanks. This was followed by an awkward silence and Tricia exchanged a quick look with her cousin.

“Ah David,” his wife commented. “there's something I need to talk with you about—in your office.”

“Now?” David asked with a creased brow. “Don't you think we should.....”

“Now David,” Tricia repeated pointedly.

David continued to look confused until he glanced over at their guests and noticed that both of them were sending him slightly embarrassed looks themselves and he finally got the message.

“OH! Yes of course,” he stammered. “Ah, we'll be right back. But not too soon—just....”

“David!”

“Yes! Coming!”

Quite suddenly Heyes and Miranda found themselves alone. Heyes was embarrassed to find himself actually fingering the brim of the new hat he was holding in his hands. Such a dead give away that he was nervous! Randa smiled at him.

“Well,” Heyes began. “it's nice to see you.”

“Hmm,” Randa nodded politely.

“You're thinking of buying the Mulroney place?”

“Yes. I think it would suit.”

“Hmm,” Heyes took a deep breath; this was ridiculous! “So...are you planning on going to the July 4th dance here in town?”

“I had hoped to,” she answered rather pointedly.

“Oh. So....you've been asked then.”

“No. Though I sense the wolves circling.”

“Ah,” Heyes nodded. “Would you like to go with me? To save you from the wolves that is.”

Randa smiled. “Well it's about time!” she responded with a smile. “I was beginning to think I was going have go with Floyd Rowlens just in order to get there at all!”

Heyes snorted and then quickly put a hand to his mouth to try and cover it up. “Well, Floyd's not a bad fellow....”

“Right!” Miranda countered. “He's five years younger than I am, has no front teeth and smells like he only bathes for the holidays!”

Heyes chuckled again and then tried to put on a straight face, but his dimples still shone through.

“So I take it, of the two of us you'd prefer to go with me then?” he asked.

“Of course!” she assured him. “I was wondering what was taking you so long!”

“Oh sorry,” Heyes grinned a little abashedly. “I wasn't sure if you'd want to.”

“Well that's why you need to ask, isn't it?” she pointed out, coyly. “It's the only way to find out. That's always been my motto; if you want to know something, just ask!”

“Yes! You're quite right,” Heyes agreed with a laugh. “Good.”

Then he stopped smiling and he found himself trapped inside her dark blue eyes and suddenly he felt as though he couldn't breathe. It scared him; he wasn't sure if he was ready for this yet. But she was so pretty and he knew that he found her—enticing.  
He stepped towards her and slipped his hand around her waist, bringing her in close to him. She didn't resist and he could feel his heart pounding and his fingers go numb. He didn't care, he'd come this far, he was going to see it through. He pulled her close to him, felt her body press up against his chest and he held her with his eyes. He leaned in and kissed her on the lips. Full soft and moist—and gentle. She kissed him back and held him in that embrace for what seemed a long, long time.  
He hadn't realized that he had closed his eyes until he opened them again and then he pulled away from her and she smiled. Sweet and gentle. She opened her eyes again as well and gazed at him and he took in a deep, shuddering breath. 

“Ahh....I'll see you on the 4th then,” he stated rather lamely.

“I'll look forward to it,” she agreed. “Perhaps even sooner.”

Heyes swallowed and then regained some of his composure. “Yes. Perhaps. Good bye, for now.”

“Good bye Hannibal.”

Heyes left the doctor's house, leaving Miranda standing alone in the kitchen. She put a hand on the back of one of the chairs to steady herself, and with her other hand up to her breast she did the best that she could to calm herself down.   
This was unexpected. She had hoped that Hannibal would ask her, but she hadn't expected to feel such passion from just a simple kiss. This was frightening, this was happening too fast! Oh dear—this was happening way too fast. But wasn't it glorious! 

Later that evening, after supper was done Tricia and Randa were busy cleaning up the kitchen while David had retreated to his office to bring the daily paperwork up to date. Nathan was sitting at the table busy with colouring his pictures and not paying much attention to anything else.

“So?” Tricia nudged her cousin. “I've been nearly bursting all through supper—what happened?”

“When?” Randa teased.

“You know when!” Tricia laughed. “Did he finally get around to asking you?”

Randa smiled. “Yes,” and made a face, like; Oh oh, now what?

“It's about time!” Tricia commented. “It is what you wanted isn't it?”

“Yes!” Randa agreed. “But now that he's asked, well I have to admit I'm rather nervous. Isn't that silly!? It's not like I'm a maiden! It's just that—I never saw myself getting involved with a....a... scoundrel!”

Tricia smiled slyly. “Scoundrel's can be fun.”

“Well yes, that's true!” Randa agreed. “But he's just such the opposite of William. William was an upstanding citizen—a solid business man. He was respected. Oh my goodness! He must be spinning in his grave right now! I've actually accepted an invitation to the dance with an ex-outlaw! A convict! A conman! Oh dear!” Suddenly her expression became reflective and a little worried. “How will I know if he's conning me? If he's just putting on an act? I remember reading about his trial and how everyone was saying how good he was at manipulating people! Top of the game! How will I know if he's being honest with me?”

Tricia had dropped her teasing attitude and listened to her cousin's concerns, knowing that this was something that truly concerned her.

“I admit I don't really know Hannibal well myself,” Tricia said. “all I can go on is what others who do know him, say about him. Jesse and Belle are not foolish people. They would not allow either of those men into their home if they didn't trust them. They certainly wouldn't be allowing Jed to marry Beth if they had any doubts as to his character!  
“And didn't you notice?” she continued on with a smile. “at the dinner last week—Belle was being so supportive of Hannibal, you can tell; she loves him very much. And even Jesse—who is no man's fool, was treating him like a long lost son.  
“I don't think you need to worry about Hannibal deliberately trying to deceive you. And besides, it's just a dance! Go—have fun! There's no need for you to rush in to anything. And then if he does turn out to be a 'scoundrel' well we'll just hook him up with Isabelle!”

Miranda laughed with that. “Yes, of course! You're right!” she agreed. “I'm getting way ahead of myself and worrying over nothing! It's not like I'm in a hurry to get married again—I have a lot of time to pick and choose!” Then she sighed and smiled a little dreamily. “Still, he is very attractive, especially since he's put on some pounds. I can see a woman being drawn into those warm chocolate eyes of his and never wanting to come back out.”

Tricia smiled knowingly over at her cousin; it sounded to her that Miranda had already gone past the point of no return.

 

The 4th of July came upon them quickly and everyone had hurried through their morning chores in order to be in town in time for some of the afternoon festivities. As was normally the case Jesse and Belle had no intentions of staying for the evening dancing. But they had agreed to do a fair share of the baby-sitting, along with Sam's mother, and Tricia's folks in order for the younger adults to have a fun night out on the town.  
The whole group were seated at tables in the town square, enjoying many of the culinary delights and the music coming to them from the local band who had set themselves up over in the far corner. Jed sat and marvelled at how this extended family unit had grown over the years with both small and large humans being added as time had gone on.  
Sam and Maribelle with their two children, and Sam's mother had joined them this year. Todd was busy playing with his friend Jay, since the two were very similar in age and Nathan had just naturally joined in. Next to them Bridget and Steven had settled in with little Rosa who was not too sure about all the strange noises surrounding her, but being a relatively good baby she didn't fuss too much. Jesse and Belle were next at the table and though Belle was still keeping a close eye on Jay, he was at an age now where he demanded some independence and she was an experienced enough mother to not stifle him.   
Then at the end of the table was David and Tricia, with Tricia also keeping an eye on her son and not being quite as relaxed about it as Belle was being. She was fussing more than the baby! Next to her was Miranda, who was sitting back and being quite amused by the family circus going on around her. Heyes sat next to her, looking a little shell shocked. He was still finding crowds hard to take and the noise from the band and the children screaming and laughing was setting his nerves to jingling, but he was still doing his best to relax and enjoy the company.  
Carol was sitting next to 'Mr. Heyes' and feeling quite honoured to be there, but it also put her in position to chat with Beth who was sitting on her other side. The two of them, despite the age difference between them had found many similar interests and had become fast friends. Then of course next to Beth was Jed and he was grinning from ear to ear, his blue eyes sparkling with delight. He couldn't have been happier; Heyes had finally come home and they were with family—an ever expanding family, and life was good!  
Then last but not least to this celebratory group was Clementine, completing the circle by sitting between Jed and Maribelle. Clem hadn't come to all the holiday outings, often preferring to stay home and entertain her own guests, but this was the first major event since Heyes had been released and she was determined to be a part of it! Indeed, Clem had spent so much time with the Jordan's over the years and had become such good friends with Bridget, and Beth as well though to a lesser degree, that she always felt welcome in their home and in their company.   
Then sure enough, wouldn't you know; the town vendor made an appearance selling popcorn and balloons! Every childish head in the vicinity jerked up and took note.

“Papa! Balloons!”

“Can we have some popcorn, Papa?”

“I have allowance coming don't I? I'm sure I do!”

Oh boy! All the fathers in attendance began to dig into pockets looking for loose change.

“Alright, here we go. How much?”

And the dealing began with numerous sets of young, eager eyes watching the financial exchange and waiting impatiently for the bartering to come to a close. Soon all the youngsters in attendance had a brightly coloured balloon tied around their wrists and a bag of popcorn being given undivided attention.  
The vendor moved on to his next victims.

“Does anyone have any plans for this afternoon?” Jesse asked the group.

Everyone looked around, shrugging their shoulders.

“Not really,” David finally vocalized. “Just walk around town, see the sights until the dance starts.”

“They have a shooting contest going on as usual,” Jesse pointed out with a smile. “you interested this year, Jed?”

“NO!” was Jed's adamant reply. “I'm gonna stay as far away from any shootin' contests as I possibly can. Goddamn amateurs; think just cause they shoot a bunch 'a plates outa the air suddenly they can take on a real shooter! I'm stayin' away from those yahoos!” 

Most of the people at the table smiled, remembering Jed's first 4th of July encounter and could appreciate him not wanting a repeat of that episode. The others who had not been present just accepted his comments as common sense!  
Then Heyes noticed that the people sitting at their table facing him were suddenly focused on something happening behind him. He frowned, but then saw Jesse smile and allowed himself to relax, but only until Jesse spoke.

“Good afternoon Carl!” Jesse greeted the sheriff. “Quiet day so far?”

“Pretty quiet yes,” Jacobs answered and Heyes instantly tensed, realizing from the sheriff's voice that the man was standing directly behind him. “It might get a little crazy tonight, but most of the folks in this town are pretty good.”

Then Heyes jumped and tensed up even more when he felt the sheriff place both his hands onto his shoulders and give them a little squeeze. Heyes couldn't help it; the fear welled up in him and every fibre in his being anticipated a blow, and why not? That's how it always came about at the prison; Carson would lay a casual hand on him and next thing he knew—POW! Life would become a nightmare and pain would always follow!  
Everyone at the table, even the children stopped what they were doing and watched the lawman and the ex-convict. It wasn't that anyone there thought that Sheriff Jacobs was going to do anything unsavoury; he wasn't that kind of man, but Heyes' fear was so palpable that everyone felt it and held their breath.

“Mr. Heyes,” Jacobs began from behind him. “you enjoying yourself today?”

Heyes swallowed nervously. He really expected something to happen here, it never occurring to him that he was surrounded by friends and family who would not just stand by and allow any abuses to be reigned down upon him.

“Yessir Sheriff,” Heyes answered quietly, his heart in his throat. “a real nice day.”

“Uh huh,” Jacobs patted one of Heyes' shoulders. “Well, I'll tell ya'; I have been receiving a number of complaints concerning you and I felt that it was time that we had a little discussion about it.”

“Oh yes Sheriff?” Heyes asked, hoping he sounded casual while at the same time racing around in circles trying to think of anything he had done that would cause an issue. He couldn't come up with anything. “What complaints would those be, sir?”

“Well it seems that some of our local patrons over at the saloon have been hoping that you would see fit to join in on their weekly poker games,” Jacobs explained. “They understand that you probably needed some time to settle in so they weren't expecting you to come by right away. But seeing as how you have a reputation for enjoying the game, lately they've been feeling kinda insulted that you haven't bothered to drop by and participate.”

“Oh,” was Heyes' only comment. He was both relieved and concerned at this bit of news.

“Now normally I wouldn't be encouraging a cardsharp to be patronizing our local saloon,” Jacobs continued. “but apparently you played a few games here before you were arrested, and the fellas have assured me that you were in fact an honest and considerate player. They have extended an open invitation for you to come and join them.”

“Oh.”

Jacobs gave his shoulder another quick pat. “Just thought I would let ya' know. Good afternoon folks! Enjoy the day!”

“Same to you Carl!” Jesse responded, trying hard to stifle a laugh. “Thanks for dropping by.”

Heyes' knees turned to butter and he was sure if he hadn't already been sitting down he would be on his butt on the ground at this point.

“Oh my goodness!” he sighed with relief as Miranda stroked his back. “He really had me worried.”

He could hear Kid haw hawing down at his end of the table while everyone just laughed and those that could reach Heyes gave him a reassuring pat on the arm or slap on the back.

“You don't need to worry about Carl,” Jesse assured him. “he's a good man, Carl Jacobs. That's why he keeps on getting re-elected as sheriff. You treat him fair, he'll give the same back.”

“Yeah I suppose,” Heyes mumbled, though not feeling too sure about that just yet; five-plus years of conditioning was going to take a lot of undoing.

Down at the end of the table, Sam was watching and listening to this conversation with a little bit of a guilty knot in his gut. He couldn't help but remember back to that evening five years ago when he had ridden back out to the Double J with Heyes as his companion. Sam had been so disgusted with the ease in which this highwayman had 'tricked' the locals out of their wages that he had wanted to arrest the outlaw right then and there.  
Oh he had been so naive! Not only by thinking that he could have taken on Hannibal Heyes all by himself, but that he thought he had known who and what the man was simply by the fact of his profession. Heyes was an outlaw and therefore there could be nothing honourable about him and he deserved whatever justice was handed down to him.  
Since that time Sam had occasion to speak with some of those fellas in that poker game and every one of them to a man had felt privileged to have had not only that calibre of player join them, but one who obviously had a strong sense of fair play. The game had been for small stakes and was meant just for fun and though the stranger had ended the evening as the undisputed winner, he had not wiped them all out.  
Then the next day, when they had discovered his identity—well! The honour felt had known no bounds! They had actually sat down and played poker with Hannibal Heyes! That was an experience that money just couldn't buy and certainly well worth what each man had contributed to the pot! There had been no hard feelings and Sam had simply imagined an insult when none had occurred.  
Yeah, Sam had grown up a lot since then and now that he sat at this table with his wife and children, enjoying this picnic on this 4th of July, he realized how fortunate he was. He looked down the table at the ex-convict, watching him trying to relax, trying to fit in but still not sure of his footing. Sam no longer felt intimidated by him, at least not in a bad way. He still felt that draw that most people, men and women alike, felt when in his company. He just had that 'something' that was indefinable, but was there none the less. Love him or hate him, Hannibal Heyes was simply a man you could not ignore.  
Sam smiled as he watched his daughter hug Heyes' arm and speak quiet words to him, obviously trying to reassure him after his harrowing encounter with the sheriff. Heyes was smiling back down at her, carrying on the conversation. He then lifted his hand and gently stroked Carol's hair and then, almost instinctively knowing he was being scrutinized, he looked up and met Sam's gaze. The two men exchanged quick smiles of understanding and then Heyes turned and went back to his discussion with Randa. Carol went back to eating her popcorn.

As lunch started to wind down everyone prepared to split up and go their separate ways until the evening meal would bring them all together again. Belle and Sam's mother, Merle offered to take care of the youngsters so that the young ladies could go and enjoy the festivities. Bridget was a tad reluctant at first, not that she didn't trust her mother, of course! But simply being a new mother herself, the separation anxiety was still running strong. Belle smiled and put her at her ease while her sister and Clementine wouldn't take 'no' for an answer and pulled her along with the gaggle of females.  
The men, of course, headed for the saloon. As usual there was the opportunity to sample all the new brews and those that were highest on the favourable list were often brought in as regular fare for the patrons. Everyone felt it was their civic duty to put in their vote as to which few would make it onto that list!  
Heyes was a little nervous. He always seemed to be a little nervous these days and it irritated him but there just didn't seem to be anything he could do about it! He pushed himself to join in on these social outings, knowing that it was expected and also knowing that the more he did it, the more comfortable he was likely to feel about them. But it was still a strain and now he had the added stress of feeling obligated to join the poker game, if one was on the go. He didn't want to. The palms of his hands began to sweat just thinking about it!  
So it was with a sigh of relief that a quick glance around the saloon assured him that no games were on the go at that moment. It was noisy and crowded, but everyone was in the festive spirit, enjoying the new brews and the company of good friends. Nobody was in the mood for poker.  
Then, as luck would have it, David spotted one of the tables in the corner opening up and he darted in to lay claim to it. Being tall and slender he could move quickly through the crowd and succeeded in the take over while the rest of his group made a more cumbersome approach. Within moments one of the gals came by to ask them what they would like.

“Afternoon fellas!” she smiled at the table. “We got six new brews here today for the sampling. Any preferences?”

Jesse looked around the table, nobody spoke up. “Doesn't look like it.” he observed. “How about we just start at the top of the list and work our way down.”

“Fine,” she smiled and then did a quick head count. “So, six glasses of Harvie's 'Hollow Tree' ale comin' up!”

Heyes smiled as she disappeared back into the crowd. “Is this what usually goes on during the 4th of July festivities?”

“Oh yeah!” Jed told him. “This is the best part of the day! Although the dancing is kinda fun too!” His blue eyes were sparkling with the anticipation of more fun to come. “But this is nice. Make sure ya' chose wisely though, cause whatever brew wins, we could be drinkin' a lot more of it!”

“I don't know if I should vote,” Heyes admitted. “My taste in beer as been somewhat compromised of late.”

“Don't worry about that Hannibal,” Jesse assured him. “You just might discover one here that you really like. There have been some interesting concoctions find their way into this contest over the years.”

“That's for sure!” David joined in. “Some of it's quite good but there have been others....I totally expect to be handing out a fair amount of stomach tonics tomorrow for those who push it too far today.”

“Sometimes I think they judge the winner by the amount that gets thrown away,” Sam stated. “The one that gets dumped the least gets the blue ribbon.”

“And on that note,” David cautioned the new-comer. “if you don't like the one you're given Hannibal, by all means don't feel you have to finish it. You don't want to ruin your palate for one you do like by drinking the ones you don't. A lot of beer gets thrown away at these little contests. It's expected.”

“Oh okay,” Heyes was thankful for that bit of advice, worrying that he might not be able to keep up with everyone else at the table.

Then the first round arrived and a small glass was handed out to everyone at the table. They all raised their glasses in the unanimous toast and took small testing sips. Reviews were mixed.

“Hmm, not bad.”

“Not much body to it.”

“Nice and refreshing for a hot summer day.”

“Would be good for cutting through trail dust.”

“A nice all round light beer for a picnic.”

“Well, it's wet anyway.”

Pro or con, nobody had trouble finishing their glass full and Heyes decided that he just might enjoy this after all. Everyone settled in for the long haul and awaited the next round.

Meanwhile, the young ladies of the clan now unburdened of off-spring had made their way over to the soda shop and had settled in at a nice outside table to enjoy some flavoured ices. Everyone was continuing to admire Beth's ring and making her feel special all over again. She beamed with pleasure and excitement and didn't mind at all talking about her favourite subject.

“It is lovely, isn't it?” she reiterated, admiring the ring on her finger. “It really is an embarrassment of riches though.”

“Why would you think that?” asked Clem. “Most ladies I know want the biggest ring they can possibly get! Yours is actually quite dainty.”

“Oh I know,” Beth agreed. “But it's so elegant! I can't believe that Jed picked this out all on his own and he must have been saving his money for ages to be able to buy it! It's just so lovely!”

The other ladies at the table smiled knowingly. Indeed, Jed had asked for Bridget's opinion on the matter, knowing that she would have a better idea of what her sister would like when it came to choosing the ring. Bridget however had no intentions of bursting the bubble that Beth was floating around in and let the matter lie. She was pleased that her sister was pleased.

“And what about you Randa?” Tricia asked once the topic of Beth's upcoming nuptials had wound down. “There was more than one lady in town who was hoping Hannibal would ask them to the dance! I hope you appreciate the honour!”

Randa sent her cousin a scathing look for putting her on the spot, but smiled with pleasure anyways.

“I still have butterflies,” she confessed. “I must admit, I'm a little afraid of him.”

“Afraid of him?”

“What?”

“Of Hannibal?”

“You ladies must understand,” Randa explained. “you all know him. But I'm still relatively new here, all I can really go on is his reputation and what I hear from others.”

“Isn't that what courting is all about?” asked Beth. “To get to know each other?”

“Well yes, I suppose it is,” Randa agreed. “But I hardly call one date to a dance 'courting'!”

“It's a start!” Clem laughed. “Besides that—Heyes wouldn't have asked you if he wasn't interested!”

“You've known him the longest of everyone here Clementine,” Randa stated. “Is he an honourable man?”

Clem snorted into her ice. “Honourable!? The man is so honourable I could ring his neck sometimes!” she declared. “I'm not sure I'll ever forgive him for going to prison in order to protect me! I'm quite capable of taking care of myself, thank you!”

“We all know there was more to it than that Clementine,” Bridget reminded her. “Even Steven stated that Hannibal was going to prison anyways simply for having been involved in that confidence game at all! And the reasons for it didn't matter! His own attitude more than anything else got him on the wrong side of that Judge so he was just looking for an excuse to find Hannibal guilty of something.”

“Yes,” Miranda piped in. “I do recall the articles in the paper commenting on his arrogance and lack of respect for the court. I suppose that is what's worrying me.”

“He's changed,” Clem commented and all the other ladies at the table who knew him well, nodded in agreement. “Some of the changes are for the better, some of them not.”

“How do you mean?” Randa asked, warming to the topic.

“He's certainly not as arrogant anymore,” Bridget put in. “He was always sweet and kind to us, but there was that other side to him that we just never saw until his trial.” She smiled reassuringly at Randa. “I can understand you feeling a little unsure of him. As Mama says; he can be very masterful at times! But you can tell that it's not there so much anymore. Prison certainly knocked that arrogance out of him.”

“Yes, but with it went his self-confidence too,” Clem added. “You notice how he doesn't offer his opinions anymore? He seems to have a hard time making decisions and well...just what happened here today when Sheriff Jacobs came over to the table. I don't think I've ever seen Heyes that scared.”

Silence settled onto the table as the ladies contemplated the truth of that observation.

“Poor Hannibal,” Bridget finally commented quietly. “I don't think we can even imagine what it was like for him in there. Even though we've all heard the reports and Beth actually witnessed one of the assaults...” Beth nodded sadly here. “....it's nothing compared to him actually having to live through it. No wonder he became suicidal.”

“Oh dear,” Randa commented, suddenly thinking that maybe she was in over her head.

Clem patted her hand reassuringly. “No, no. Heyes is nothing if not resilient. I have no doubt that he will pull himself out of this and he'll be a better man for it! It's just going to take some time. And help from his friends, of course!”

“Oh, of course!” Bridget agreed.

“We'll all help him!” Beth seconded.

“That's what friends are for!” Bridget added on. “He's going to be fine!”

“Just be his friend Miranda,” Clem advised her. “I think you'll find him to be worth the effort. Just don't ask me to describe him to you! This afternoon isn't long enough—that well runs too deep!”

“That's for sure!”

“But what an interesting well it is!”

“Just relax and enjoy the journey!”

“He's going to be fine.”

 

The dancing got started right on time that evening and everyone, save one, were eager to get out onto the cleared away town square in order to get down to it. Heyes was the one who only felt trepidation at the prospect and was beginning to regret his impetuousness in inviting Miranda to be his date. This was all Kid's fault! If he hadn't pushed.....  
There was nothing for it now, so Heyes went along with the group and tried to relax and have a good time. They were fortunate again to find a table that would accommodate their party and the ladies all settled in while the men trotted off to get punch for everyone. Clementine instantly began scanning the floor—or more precisely—the field, knowing that she would have no trouble finding partners to dance with. All the locals knew her and many of the young men in attendance were looking forward to adding her to their dance chart.  
Heyes offered to get Clem her punch along with his and Randa's, so he was taking a little bit more time to return to their table, trying to keep from spilling three glasses and to keep out of the way of the other party-goers. Then, much to his chagrin it all became a mute point when he was bumped into from behind and all three glasses ended up losing at least half their contents. Heyes fought down his irritation as he turned to confront the clumsy person when he found himself staring down at a rather attractive young woman.

She smiled up at him. “I am so sorry,” she purred. “Shall I help you to replenish them?”

“Oh. No ma'am, that's quite alright,” Heyes remembered how to be polite after all. “It was my fault and no harm done.”

“Oh please, call me Isabelle,” she informed him and held out her hand for shaking.

“Oh, ahh...” Heyes felt awkward, both his hands being occupied at that point in time.

“Oh! Yes of course,” she said with a smile. “Consider our hands shaken.”

“Yes ma'am,” Heyes smiled. “My name is Hannibal.”

“Yes I know,” she admitted. “I think everyone in town knows who you are.”

“Oh,” Heyes smiled, feeling a little embarrassed at this attention.

“And might I say,” Isabelle continued. “that we are all so pleased to have you returned to us safe and sound. Many of us stood behind Jed and the Jordan's in their efforts to get you released. I know for myself personally, that I had many a talk with Jed when he was feeling like giving it up and I'm sure that what I had to say was often all that kept him going. So in that way, I like to think that I was able to contribute at least that little bit to the effort of securing your release.”

“Oh yes,” Heyes nodded to her. “Thank you...Isabelle. I know I am beholden to many people who are here tonight.” 

“Well, if you wish to thank me properly,” she smiled up at him. “perhaps you can offer me a dance later on.”

“Oh,” Heyes commented, suddenly feeling cornered and uncomfortable. “Ah, well....it does seem that my dances are all spoken for at the moment. But if one opens up I will certainly keep you mind.”

Disappointment flashed across Isabelle's eyes, but she quickly recovered. “Of course,” she said. “I'll look forward to it.”

“Evenin' Isabelle,” came Jed's voice from behind them. “On the prowl early I see.”

“Oh Jed!” she said as she patted his arm. “Don't be such a tease!”

“Uh huh. C'mon Heyes,” he said, taking a couple of the glasses out of his partner's grip. “let's get these glasses re-filled. Miranda was wonderin' what was keepin' ya'.”

“Oh yeah. Thanks,” Heyes sent a quick nod over to the lady. “Good evening Isabelle. Nice to meet you.”

“And you.....”

But then the two gentlemen had turned and were making their way back to the refreshment tables. Isabelle sniffed rather indignantly and then carried on back to her own table.

“That was close,” Jed commented as they were re-filling the glasses.

“Oh, she was just saying 'hello',” Heyes insisted.

“Heyes, to that woman, saying 'hello' is a prelude to joining her at the church—and I don't mean for Sunday services either!”

“Oh! Ha ha,” Heyes grinned at his close call as they headed back to their own table, glasses replenished.

“Just stay away from her until you find your footing again,” Jed advised him. “She might very well make an attempt to split you and Miranda up tonight, so just be careful, okay?”

“Yeah, thanks for the heads up,” Then they were back to their table again. “Here we are. Sorry for the delay, I had a run-in with one of the locals.”

“That Isabelle again!” Clem rolled her eyes. “Hasn't she found some dope to marry her yet?”

“Apparently not,” Heyes commented.

“That woman!” Bridget snarked. “She did everything she could to break up Jed and Beth!” And then she leaned into Heyes conspiratorially. “She even tried to convince Jed to forget about getting you released from prison! That you were a lost cause and that he should just marry her and get on with his life!”

“Really?” Heyes' brows went up. “Isn't that interesting.”

“Yeah,” Jed agreed. “She insulted you and Beth all at the same time. I was already getting annoyed with her, but that was the final straw and I let her know in no uncertain terms that I wasn't interested.” He smiled. “That was the last time she tried any of that.”

“Oh well,” Heyes smiled. “I have been fore-warned. Thank you.”

Then he picked up Miranda's hand and gently kissed it. Miranda went all warm and fuzzy inside.

Isabelle spotted the affectionate exchange from across the dance area and grimaced with disgust. Those Jordan's really were becoming a thorn in her side. Then her thoughts got interrupted by a gentle enquiry.

“Good evening Miss Isabelle,” Floyd Rowlins greeted her. “would you care to dance?”

Isabelle smiled at him and then turning away for an instant, rolled her eyes. Oh crap!

A couple of hours later the dancing was in full swing and everyone was having a grand old time. Everyone that is, except Heyes and Miranda. Clementine had just breathlessly finished up a whirlwind of a dance with one of her local favourites and was making her way back to their table when she spotted the new couple sitting there in conversation. Miranda was engaged enough with what Heyes was saying, but the occasional whimsical glance out onto the dance area suggested that she would much rather be joining in on the festivities.  
Clem sighed and shaking her head she marched right over to the table and grabbed Heyes by the arm.

“C'mon Silly!” she ordered him as she hauled him up out of his chair. “it's time you got your feet wet!”

“What!? No! We were just....!”

“Yes, I know what you were just! I could see it from way over there!” Then she glanced down at the rather surprised Miranda. “You just sit tight. I'll bring him right back—I promise!”

“No Clem c'mon,” Heyes protested. “I really don't wanna.....”

“Yes I know you don't wanna,” Clem continued as she pushed him out onto the dance 'floor'. “but this is just getting ridiculous! Miranda came here tonight to have fun, not just sit there and listen to you prattle on! Now you get out here and you start dancing!”

“No Clem, c'mon!” Heyes repeated, showing that he was at a loss for words. “I just don't feel....”

“Too bad!” Clem threw back at him. “C'mon, put your arms around me. That's right. Now start moving your feet! My goodness you'd think you were sixteen again the way you're behaving! Well you can do better than that! C'mon! Stop shuffling—I know for a fact that you do not have two left feet! Now put your arm around my waist and take the lead. There! That's better. See? You ninny, you haven't forgotten how to dance.”

Heyes had suddenly started to grin. The music took hold of his mood and before he knew it he was floating Clem around the dance floor like an old pro and he was actually starting to enjoy the event. By the time the dance number was finished, his blood was up and he was flushed and laughing and feeling a little bit more like his old agile self again.  
As they headed back over to the table, Heyes was still grinning and Clem felt satisfied of a job well done as she handed him back over to a smiling Miranda. Heyes took his lady's hand and brought her to her feet.

“I'm sorry,” he said to her. “Clem is right; I've been behaving like an old stick in the mud. Would you like to dance?”

Miranda smiled, her dark blue eyes sparkling. “Yes! I would.” And then as Heyes led her out onto the dance floor, she turned to Clem and mouthed a silent 'thank you'. 

Clem smiled and then went off in search of a new partner for herself.

The evening carried on and as usually happens at these events, everyone in the Jordan party ended up dancing with everyone else and a good time was had by all. Then at one point, Beth found herself without a partner and decided to take that opportune moment to make a discreet exit to the lady's latrine and be back again before anyone noticed her missing.  
It was getting quite dark away from the lights of the dance area but she knew the way well enough even if the path hadn't been marked out by subtle lanterns placed along the route. She quickly ducked into the small enclosure, did her business and began to make her way back to the party. She was about half way there when a stranger's voice behind her stopped her in her tracks and sent a shiver down her spine.

“Good evening Miss Jordan,” the man's voice whispered to her. “Are you having a good time tonight?”

Beth gasped in surprise and spun around to face the dark silhouette of the interloper.

“Excuse me,” she breathed, somewhat indignantly. “do I know you?”

“No Miss,” came the eery reply from the shadows. 

Then the first of the fireworks shot up into the air, exploding over top of them and sending a flash of bright light over the entire area. Beth gasped again in surprise as she got a fleeting view of the man before her. He looked cruel, his eyes like dagger points and his smile malicious. She put a hand to her mouth and involuntarily took a step backwards.

“You don't know me,” he continued quietly, and his grin deepened. “not yet.” 

Then he was gone, back into the dark night and Beth turned on her heels and ran the rest of the way back to the company of her friends. She reached their table, breathless and shaking, but she sat herself down and tried to relax her nerves while she waited for the dance to finish up. More fireworks were shooting up into the air and everyone was returning to their tables in anticipation of going out to the main street to enjoy the show.  
Jed returned with the rest of their party, but the smile on his face turned to a frown of concern when he saw his betrothed looking pale and shaken.

“What's the matter, darlin'?” he asked her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Did something happen?”

“No no,” Beth smiled, not wanting to ruin the evening for everyone else. “Silly really. I just went out to the privvy and got frightened by shadows. I'm fine.”

“Oh. Okay,” Though Jed didn't look convinced. “Well the next time you want to go to the privvy you tell me. I'll escort you and then you won't have to be jumping at shadows.”

“Yes of course,” she assured him as she leaned into his hug. “It was nothing, really. Just silly me. Come, let's go enjoy the fireworks!”

“Everything alright?” Heyes asked as he, with Miranda on his arm, prepared to head out.

“Yup,” Jed told him. “Just shadows!”

“Ohh.”

During the walk down to Main Street, Beth held on tight to Jed's arm and spent much of the time darting quick glances around her at the various people walking by. Quite understandably she was feeling a little skittish but as the lights and sounds of the festive spirits continued to swirl about her she soon began to relax and enjoy herself again.  
She was being silly! It must have just been someone who was new to town, there for the festivities and of course had heard about the Jordan's; they were the wealthiest family in the county after all! He had just been saying 'hello' and it was only the strange lighting from the fireworks that had made his appearance so sinister. He would probably come out to the ranch the next day to officially introduce himself. Yes, that was it. She was just being silly.  
The fireworks display was amazing—the best they'd had in years! The flares and lights and bright colours lit up the sky and exploded with loud bangs and cracks that made spectators jump and gasp and hold onto one another. Then they'd all laugh with nervous excitement and anticipation of more to come.  
Heyes felt such a thrill! Suddenly the loud noises and crowds of people didn't bother him anymore and for the first time since his release he forgot all about the prison! He forgot about the pain and fear and was just living in the moment, allowing himself to be swallowed up by the excitement and the fun and the noise and the brilliant colours! He was surrounded by his friends and he had a fine woman on his arm and for the first time in five years he was joyously happy!  
Then something happened that marred the evening for all those involved. And yet nobody really knew how it all came about or why it had happened. No one could describe it later, there was just too much noise and bright flashes of colour and too many people in the way for anyone to have a clear reckoning of the events.  
Beth had let go of Jed's arm in her excitement of watching the display, hands to her mouth with ooo's and aaahhh's and eyes up to the sky watching the lights. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, she felt herself being pushed from behind. She plunged forward, out into the street, her senses overwhelmed with the loud noises and bright flashes of coloured lights. She regained her balance and could hear Jed calling her name, but darkness surrounded her and she lost her sense of direction—she could hear Jed calling her, but which way was he?  
Then more fireworks exploded into the sky, lighting up the whole area and she looked up just in time to see flaring nostrils and white rimmed eyes charging towards her. Sudden light reflected off of buckles and bits. Her ears were assaulted with the pounding of hooves and the jangling of harness and the wild snorting of horses spooked beyond reason. She felt rather than saw the bulk of the two animals charging into her in their panic to get away from the terrifying noise!  
She screamed but her voice was ripped away from her by more explosions! She felt the impact of one of the horses ploughing into her just as someone grabbed her arm and yanked her out of the path of the runaway wagon. She hit the ground hard and lay still, the wind knocked out of her and her senses reeling.

She heard Jed's frightened voice; “Beth! Beth darlin'! No! No! Beth....! and then she passed out and heard no more. 

 

When Beth awoke she was in a strange room and a strange bed. She opened her eyes to slits but didn't dare go any further than that—her head was pounding. She tried to take a breath but then caught herself with the pain that shot through her rib cage at the attempt. She groaned.

“Beth, sweetheart...are you awake?”

“Momma?” it was barely a whisper.

“Yes sweetheart!” came the beloved voice. “Thank God! Thank God!”

Her mother's face came into view and a gentle hand touched her face. She tried to move, tried to speak.

“Shhh,” Belle soothed her. “Lie still sweetheart. You've been hurt, but you're safe now. We're at David's place, he's taken care of you. You're safe.”

“Jed....”

Belle looked up at Tricia and the doctor's wife smiled and quietly left the room. Out in the kitchen numerous sets of eyes instantly looked up as she came over to the table. She looked at Jed and smiled.

“She awake,” Tricia told him. “she's asking for you.”

The whole table released a collective sigh of relief. Heyes grinned and rubbed his partner's back. Jed felt like he was going to throw up. He was pale and cold with fear and Heyes had stayed close to him, hoping to give morel support but without suffocating him. Jed had spent the last couple of hours hardly able to breathe, but now those few spoken words were like a flood gate opening and he started to shake with the relief of it.

“Can I....can I go see her?”

“Yes,” Tricia told him. “but just for a few moments. She's still very tired.”

“Yeah, yeah okay,” Jed agreed. “Oh Heyes! Oh thank goodness!”

“Yeah, I know partner,” Heyes said and gave him a gentle squeeze on the arm. “Go to your lady, we'll be here.”

“Yeah.”

Then Jed stood up on shaky knees and made his way over to the bedroom; the same bedroom that he had spent so many nights in recovering from his own demons.  
Heyes leaned back in his chair with an exhausted sigh. Miranda, who was sitting on his other side, hugged his arm and leaned her head on his shoulder. He smiled and reaching over, he patted her arm. This had been one hell of a first date.  
As soon as Beth had been delivered to the doctor's house, Maribelle and Merle had gone home with the children while Sam had taken a horse and despite the darkness of the night had ridden at breakneck speed out to the Double J to let them know what had happened. Within moments Jesse had Monty harnessed up and ready to go while Belle had bundled up the two children and they'd headed back into town as fast as the little pacer could go.  
Now the Gibson's kitchen was packed full of very worried family members who had been doing their best to stay positive and supportive of one another, but not really doing too good a job. Tricia coming out to announce that Beth had indeed awakened had sent everyone into a spiral of relief and quiet conversation finally settled in as they all voiced their questions and concerns.  
Jed stepped quietly into the bedroom and locked eyes with Belle. She smiled at him and nodded. David was sitting beside the bed, moving the small lamp back and forth in front of Beth's eyes. He smiled.

“You're pupils look good,” he commented. “but I'll still be waking you up every few hours, just to be sure.”

“Why?” Beth asked quietly.

“You have a concussion young lady,” the doctor informed her. “It's just a precaution, nothing to worry about.”

“Oh.”

Then David looked up and smiled at Jed. “You can sit with her for a few minutes Jed, but that's all.”

“Yeah, yeah okay.”

“Jed?”

“Hi darlin',” Jed sat down, taking David's place beside the bed and cupped his love's bruised face in his hand. “You look a mess.”

Beth smiled and then grimaced; every inch of her hurt. “What happened?”

“Donno,” Jed told her. “One minute you were standing beside me and the next....do you remember anything?”

“Just...someone pushing me.”

“Really?”

Beth nodded and then regretted the movement as her head exploded with more pounding.

“My head hurts,” she mumbled.

“I think David is getting you something for that.”

“Oh, good.”

Then right on cue, David returned to the room with a cup full of liquid meds and hustled everybody out.

“Okay that's enough visiting,” he said. “The patient needs to rest.”

“Yeah alright David,” Jed relented. “I'll see you later darlin'. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Alright sweetheart,” Belle took her daughter's hand. “you rest now. I won't go home without you.”

“Okay, mama.”

Out in the kitchen Trich had put more coffee on, apparently nobody was going anywhere for awhile. The two boys had been put to bed in David and Tricia's room for the time being, and Bridget kept Rosa with her while the infant slept.  
David joined them at the table and sat down with a sigh. Every head turned his way. He looked up at them all and smiled.

“She'll be alright,” he assured the group. “She has a concussion, two cracked ribs and a lot of bruises, but she should be able to go home in a couple of days.”

“Oh, what a relief!” Belle breathed. “My goodness, what a thing to have happen!”

Jesse reached over and squeezed his wife's hand. She smiled at him and leaned her head into his shoulder.

“Does anyone even know what did happened?” David asked.

Everyone looked perplexed.

“I didn't even know anything was happening until I heard Jed yelling,” Steven admitted.

“No neither did I,” David seconded. “We were all too busy watching the display.”

“She said she felt someone push her,” Jed informed them. Then he frowned and looked over at Heyes. Heyes looked back, questioning. “Something else happened this evening though. I didn't think anything of it at the time, but....”

All eyes were upon him.

“You mean just before we headed out to the fireworks?” Heyes asked him. “She did look awfully shaken.”

“Yeah,” Jed confirmed. “I asked her if something had happened and she just said that she had gone to the privvy and had been frightened by shadows.”

“Beth has never been one to jump at shadows,” said Jesse.

“I know,” Jed agreed. “But like I said; I didn't think any more of it then, but now....”

An ominous silence settled over the kitchen. The coffee pot started to over-boil.

 

To Be Continued


	2. The Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heyes and Jed take another trip to Laramie
> 
> Heyes and Miranda's romance continues

It was nighttime, and the fireworks were exploding high up in the sky, raining bright lights down upon the spectators who gasped and clapped their hands in joyous appreciation. Heyes was walking down the boardwalk casually watching the show. This was a dream. He knew it was a dream and when Carson suddenly showed up in front of him, his cruel features accentuated by the flaring lights, the ex-convict was hardly surprised.  
But even at that a tingling of fear went through him, and when Carson smiled and uncoiled the bull whip and gave it a snap, the tingling turned into a full fledged vice on his heart.

“Stay away from me,” Heyes murmured in his sleep. “Leave me alone—please, just leave me alone!”

Then Morin was there, standing beside Carson, tutting and shaking his head in disgust.

“What do ya' mean 'Leave me alone?' I'm laying cold in my grave and that's all you can say to the man who put me there?” Doc looked disappointed. “Grab him why don't you? He's right in front of you.....c'mon Heyes! Stop being such a lily-livered coward...grab him!”

Heyes looked back to Carson and was just about to take the doctor's advise when suddenly Beth came into the picture and Carson had a solid grip on her arm. 

“NO! No, let her go!” Heyes started to yell, trying to reach his young friend. “LET HER GO!”

“GRAB HIM HEYES!” Morin yelled at him. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU WAITING FOR!?”

Carson laughed and shook Beth like she was a rag doll. “Grab me huh? I dare ya' to try it!” He sneered and then gave the whip another loud snap. “How do you think her pretty little back would look all cut to ribbons? Shall we find out?”

Carson began to pull Beth away from Heyes. Beth was screaming, trying to break free but Carson had too solid a grip on her.

“Joshua, help me!” she screamed at him, pleading with him. “Help me! Do something.....!”

“No! NO! Leave her alone! LEAVE HER ALONE!”

 

“Joshua! Joshua wake up!”

Then the ground that Heyes was standing on began to shake and tremble as though an earthquake was taking hold of the town and rattling and rolling it until all the buildings began to fall down. Heyes tried to grab onto something—anything, but there was nothing there and he began to fall...falling...down, down into darkness.   
And his world shook again and suddenly he was awake and Belle was standing at the foot of the bed holding up the lamp. Jesse was standing behind her, he was gripping the bed post and shaking it, forcing the sleeping man to wake up. 

“Oh God!” Heyes was still laying back on his pillow, but again he was covered in a cold sweat and he could feel himself trembling. He ran a hand over his eyes and through his hair. “Oh no, when are these going stop?”

Belle came forward and placing the lamp onto the night table, she sat down on the bed and took Heyes' hand in hers.

“They do seem to take over your nights, don't they?” she commented. “Would you like some tea or anything, to calm you down?”

“No no,” Heyes breathed. “that's alright. I'm sorry. I woke you both up.”

Jesse smiled. “After raising three children, that's nothing new for us. Don't worry about that. I'm more concerned with why you're having such bad nightmares. I know David says it's not unusual, considering...but still.....”

“Yeah.” Heyes was still shaken. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “Is Beth alright?”

“Yes she's fine,” Belle assured him. “She's asleep, downstairs.” Then she smiled. “She can't even move a muscle without Thaddeus knowing about it and checking up on her. She's fine.”

“Oh good,” Heyes sighed and leaned back in his pillow. “Kid really can be an old mother hen sometimes.”

“Was she part of your nightmare this time Joshua?” Belle asked him.

“Yeah. Yeah...she was being threatened.”

“I suppose that's not surprising,” Jesse commented. “after what happened the other night. But she's fine Hannibal. Think you can get back to sleep?”

Heyes nodded. “Yeah. Sorry. Maybe I should have stayed in the downstairs bedroom. I wouldn't be disturbing you down there.”

“Now we discussed that,” Belle reminded him. “We all agreed it would be better for Beth to be downstairs so that she could stay in bed throughout the day and not have to worry about tackling the stairs. She's fine. And don't you worry about disturbing us,” she smiled and patted his arm as she stood up again. “Just relax and go back to sleep. We'll see you in the morning.”

“Yeah, alright. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Joshua.”

“Hannibal.”

The couple left the room, taking the lamp and the light with them. Heyes settled down into his blanket again, and with a deep cleansing sigh, relaxed into the pillow and very quickly was back asleep.  
The same cannot be said for Jesse and Belle.

“Didn't David give him a sleeping draft to help with these nightmares?” Jesse asked as they settled back into their own pillows.

“Yes,” Belle admitted. “It seemed to help at first but now those nightmares are taking over again. I suppose if he wasn't on that medicine, he wouldn't be getting back to sleep at all tonight. But still, those nightmares are taking their toll. Joshua looked to be improving, but lately he's just waring out.”

Jesse sighed and as the couple lay snuggled in each other's arms, he stared up at the ceiling and tried to make sense of all these strange events that were happening around them.

“And now his dreams are including Beth,” he mumbled almost to himself.

“Yes,” Belle heard him and quietly agreed. “There's so much he has to get over. It's as though he's so insecure that he feels threatened by everything that happens even if it doesn't directly involve him. Here we were all thinking that getting him out of prison would be the end of his troubles, but now it seems to be just the beginning. What a terrible place it must be. Joshua didn't deserve that—he just didn't, I don't care what he did!”

Jesse smiled and hugged his wife closer to him. “I know,” he consoled her. “but he's home now and everybody's rallying around him.” Then Jesse laughed softly. “Even Carl Jacobs!”

Belle furrowed her brow. “Carl? What did he do?”

“Do you really think that little encounter with him at the picnic was coincidence?” he asked his wife. “Carl could have told Hannibal about the poker games at any time, and certainly didn't have to come up behind him like that and put his hands on his shoulders. No, Carl did that on purpose.”

“What do you mean?” Belle asked him, still confused. “he really frightened Joshua and like you say, there was really no need for it.”

“Except that it's showing Hannibal that not every lawman who approaches him is going to be a threat,” Jesse explained. “Sheriff Jacobs came up behind Hannibal and lay hands upon him and the encounter did not result in anything negative or threatening. In fact, it was good news; an invitation to 'join in'; to participate, indeed to feel free to become involved with the activities the town has to offer.  
“No, Carl did that on purpose. It's still going to take time, but bit by bit, Hannibal will become more relaxed and not expect a blow every time an officer of the law looks twice at him.”

Belle smiled and patted her husband's arm. “Alright,” she conceded. “good point.” Then she became contemplative again. “I wonder why he hasn't gone in to play poker. He used to enjoy it quite a bit. You'd think it'd be one of the first things he'd want to get back to.”

“Yeah,” Jesse agreed. “Jed says his confidence is shot. He needs to build it back up again. We'll get him there. Ohh, we just need to get him passed these damn nightmares! They're holding him back.”

“Or pointing the way,” Belle surmised.

Jesse laughed again and pulling his wife close he kissed her forehead. “Yes! Or pointing the way.”

The next morning everyone was up and enjoying coffee and oatmeal. Beth still seemed under the weather but was putting on a brave face for the morning meal at least. She could always go back to bed once she'd put in the effort to eat something.  
Heyes was in good spirits, though he was somewhat overly attentive to Beth and busied himself with fetching and carrying for her in between swallows of his own breakfast. Jed watched him with some curiosity and just a touch of humour, thinking that Heyes really could be an old mother hen sometimes.  
Jesse was watching as well, but he at least knew where the protectiveness was coming from. Indeed, looking at his daughter he could see that she was still pale and shaken from her ordeal and wasn't sure if all this attention was helping her or hindering her.

“So, are you still planning on going to visit your friends this week?” Jesse finally asked the two young men, mainly in an attempt to take their focus off Beth so she could eat her breakfast in peace.

“Ahh, I don't know,” Kid looked uncertain. “I'm not sure I want to leave Beth like this.”

“She's fine Thaddeus,” Belle assured him. “You know David said that she's recovering nicely. All she needs right now is rest—something that she'll apparently get a lot more of with you two gone for awhile.”

“Oh,” Heyes smiled a little self-consciously.

Jed grinned and then gave Beth a kiss on the forehead. “I guess we have been hovering a little bit.”

“Yes,” Beth agreed. “but it's been nice. I'm fine, Jed. You and Hannibal go and visit your friends; they're expecting you.”

“Well Kenny is,” Jed revised the plan. “Lom sent word that he's been called away so there's no point in us comin' by ta' see them. They'll see us at the weddin'.”

“Oh,” Heyes nodded. “Probably better that way.

Jed frowned at that comment but said nothing about it.

 

That evening, Jesse drove the fellas into town and dropped them off at the sheriff's office. Heyes was obviously nervous but he covered it up nicely and taking his carpet bag from the buggy he joined Jed in biding adieu to their benefactor.

Jed clapped his cousin on the back. “Well, c'mon Heyes,” he encouraged him. “Your first official leave from town. Let's go sign the paperwork.”

“Yeah,” Heyes took a deep breath and followed his partner into the office.

Jacobs was over at his desk, finishing up the reports for the day and basically getting ready to shut down the day-shift. He smiled as the two men entered the office and stood up to greet them.

“Well howdy gents,” he said. “I've been waiting for ya'. Figured you'd be in soon considering the train schedule.” 

“Hmm,” Heyes' comment was non-committal.

Jed smiled back at the lawman. “Evenin' Sheriff. Hope we haven't kept ya' too long.”

“No no,” Jacobs assured him. “I don't usually get outa here before now anyways. So, come on, let's get this done.”

He pulled open the drawer of his desk and pulled out the ledger and flipped it open to the first page. Heyes' date and time of arrival into the town was written there in black and white along with his signature and now he stepped forward and taking the pen, prepared to add another date and place to the page. Why did he have a knot in his gut? This should be easy; nobody here was threatening him. Stop being such a wuss!

“It's alright Mr. Heyes,” Jacobs reassured him. “Just write down where you're going and why and when you expect to be back. Then sign it.”

Heyes smiled up at him, feeling silly at the way his own body was betraying his emotions. Jed watched him struggle, trying so hard to be himself again, trying so hard to be the self-assured individual he had been before.....  
Heyes sighed and dipped the pen into the ink then put nib to paper and began to write. 'Laramie, Wyoming. To visit a friend, Kenny Reece. Expect to be back July 10th 1889. Hannibal Heyes.'  
Heyes took a deep breath and straightened up with a smiled. That hadn't been so hard after all.

“Good!” Jacobs declared. “I'll expect ya' on the tenth. If you're gonna be later than that just remember to let me know. That's all there is to it.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Have a good trip,” the sheriff said and then offered Heyes his hand.

Heyes looked at it for a second, not sure but then he smiled and took it and shook it. His grin now was genuine. “Thank you Sheriff. I'll see you in a few days.”

Heyes turned to leave while Jed and Carl exchanged knowing smiles and then Jed turned and followed his partner outside where they would head over to the depot and await the arrival of their train. Kid clapped his cousin on the back as they walked.

“See, that wasn't so bad was it Heyes?”

“No,” Heyes admitted. “Now all we have to do is get by Sheriff MacPherson.”

“Hmm, yeah.”

“I hope Kenny has let him know we're coming.”

 

MacPherson was certainly not pleased to find those two particular gentlemen back in his town. He had enough riffraff to deal with what with the prison being so close and all. Oh sure the inmates came in handy a lot of times for cheap physical labour but on the most part they were just more trouble than they were worth. The type of folks who usually came to visit them weren't too savoury either.  
Still, when the warden says he's expecting these two men and that they are in town on his invite, well there's not too much the sheriff can do to prevent it. MacPherson decided to just put up with the inconvenience. The scowl he sent them as they entered his office the following morning however, did not leave much to the imagination.

“Howdy Sheriff,” Heyes greeted the lawman, trying not to let his touch of anxiety show through. “I'm just here to sign in with you as required by my parole.”

“Uh huh,” the sheriff grumbled. “fine. Here's the ledger. Write down the date, who you're here ta' see, why you're here ta' see 'em and when you intend ta' leave. Then sign it. Ya' can write, can't ya?”

Heyes smiled, knowing the sheriff was deliberately trying to egg him. “Well now Sheriff, I signed out of this town a few months ago so it would kind of stand to reason that I can sign back in again.”

“Hmm,” the sheriff turned the ledger around and read what Heyes had jotted down. “Oh good. You're leavin' again tomorrow. Not going to visit you're Sister friends this trip?”

“No sir Sheriff,” Heyes answered, surprised to find his confidence building with this assault rather than cringing away from it. He turned and clapped Curry on the shoulder. “My partner here is getting married next month,” he smiled cheekily. “actually to someone better than the mayor's daughter!” Jed brought his hand up to his mouth to hide the smirk. “... so we have to be getting back.” Heyes continued on, then he sent a serious look directly at MacPherson. “But I sure can't think of a nicer town to be spending my time in than Laramie, Wyoming!”

Kid stifled another chuckle as MacPherson send Heyes a suspicious glare, not quite sure if the ex-con was being smart with him or not. Heyes just smiled broadly and then tipped his hat.

“Morning Sheriff,” he said. “I'll be dropping in again before we leave tomorrow. Have a nice day.”

“Yeah,” MacPherson responded, still not sure if there was a double meaning coming at him from somewhere. “You have a nice.....just stay outa trouble while you're in my town!”

Heyes' grin broadened even more and then he turned to leave. Curry nodded good morning to the lawman himself and then followed in his cousin's footsteps.

“Jeez Heyes!” he laughed as they headed towards the hotel. “ya' might give me warnin' when you're gonna change tactics like that. I thought you were worried about him.”

“Yeah I was,” Heyes admitted. “but once we got in there I realized that he can't hurt me, not as long as I stick to the conditions of the parole—he's got no say. Especially when we're here on special invite from 'Warden Kennith Reece' himself! It pays to have friends in high places.”

“Ha ha!” Curry laughed in genuine pleasure at seeing his partner slowly showing signs of his old self again. “You're right Heyes! You're so right. C'mon—let's get checked in at the hotel and then go get something to eat. I'm famished!”

Heyes smiled and shook his head; some things never change.

Over at the cafe, Lisa was genuinely pleased to see them again. “Jed!” she greeted her once regular customer. “How ya' been keepin'? Why ever since you stopped comin' we got so much food left over! You gotta promise me you're gonna help clear out that ole' pantry while you're in town!”

“I'll certainly do my best to help ya' out there Lisa!” Jed promised. “In the mean time, how about some steak and eggs?”

“You betcha!” she agreed and then looked over at Heyes. “Well now you can't go tellin' me that you're that same bald-headed scrawny little ex-con who pulled my Jed away from this fine eatery. You can't be the same man!”

Heyes beamed, his dimples working overtime. There was just something about this rather flamboyant woman that made a man feel good. “Good morning Lisa. How are you today?”

“Well my goodness!” she played the part well. “The voice is certainly the same! What a difference a head a' hair makes, eh fellas!? I swear you are down right handsome! You're still awful skinny though, you sure you're eatin' enough?”

“I'm trying.”

“Well you just keep on tryin' there Hannibal, cause between you and me, you got a long ways ta' go!” she told him, then smiled knowingly. “I bet you're real ready for that steak now ain't ya'?”

“Oh yes ma'am,” Heyes' mouth was already watering at the thought. “Medium rare and over easy.”

“Right you are! With lots of tatters too. Coffee's on the way—fresh pot should be just about ready.” She took a step to leave but then stopped and sent Heyes a speculative look. “Ah, you drinkin' the strong stuff yet sweetie—or should I make ya' a special pot?”

“Oh, no no!” Heyes was quick to assure her. “Strong coffee for sure.”

“Good! I knew you could do it!”

Then she was off. The two partners exchanged looks and then broke out into chuckles and nothing more needed to be said. Coffee soon arrived and twenty minutes after that one of the best breakfasts Heyes had ever tasted got plunked down on the table in front of him. He dug in with a vengeance that even the Kid had to sit back and admire.

After breakfast the partners headed back to their hotel room for a snooze since neither of them got much sleep on the train. Then at the appropriate time they got themselves cleaned up and headed over to Kenny's house, with Jed leading the way.  
As they approached the front door, Jed put a hand on his partner's arm, stopping him in his tracks.

“What?” Heyes asked.

“Just fair warnin',” Kid stated. “you're about to get bombarded. Sure you're up to this?”

Heyes shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. Can't be worse than the orphans.”

“Hmm I suppose,” Kid just smiled and they continued on their way.

Jed hardly had time to get one rap on the door when it was flung open and eleven year old Evelyn stood in the threshold with excited enthusiasm and awkward shyness competing for control of her countenance. She smiled a huge radiating grin, her gray eyes sparkling as she welcomed her beloved.

“Good afternoon Mr. Curry.” she greeted Jed and then giggled nervously.

“Well good afternoon Miss Evelyn,” Jed returned the greeting as he took off his hat. “How is my young lady on this fine day?”

More nervous giggling as she smiled up at him, totally lost as to what the next move should be. Then Sarah saved the day.

“Show our guests in Evelyn,” came the suggestion from deeper inside the house.

Evelyn reached up her hand and took hold of Jed's and began to pull him into the front hall way. He went willingly and Heyes followed, hat in hand and a stifled grin fighting for possession of his face. He closed the door behind him as Jed took possession of his hand again and then indicated to Heyes where they were to leave their hats and gun belts. They were in the process of ridding themselves of these items when Heyes spotted the rather plump but pleasant looking woman coming towards them, a smile of greeting on her face and a look of welcome in her eyes.

“Jed, how nice to see you again.”

“Hello Sarah,” Jed answered and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Sarah, I'd like you to meet my partner, Hannibal Heyes. Heyes, this is Kenny's wife, Sarah.”

Sarah smiled warmly up at him. “Mr. Heyes,” she said. “I'm so glad to finally meet you.”

“Ma'am,” Heyes returned the smile, suddenly feeling a little awkward. “Ah, thank you for inviting us.”

“Please, go on in to the sitting room. Make yourselves comfortable,” Sarah insisted. “Kenny will be home soon. I believe the boys are all out back....” then they heard the sound of the screen door banging shut and the atmosphere in the house instantly changed as it tends to do when three energetic young men suddenly explode upon the scene. “....my mistake!” Sarah laughed. “Here they are now!”

The three males in question were instantly upon them, taking up the space in the hallway with the two younger ones not hesitating to come forward in greeting.

“Mr. Curry! You finally got here!”

“Wow! You're here!”

“Hello Charlie, William,” Jed greeted them, shaking their hands in turn. Then he looked to the older one who was definitely a young man in his own right, but oh so much his father's son. “You must be Joseph.”

“Yessir,” Joseph stepped forward and shook Jed's hand. “It's very nice to meet you sir.”

“Well it's very nice to meet you,” Jed answered him. “You father speaks very proudly of you.”

Joe grinned with pleasure. “Thank you sir.”

“And this is my partner, Hannibal Heyes.”

All eyes turned to Heyes and there was a heartbeat of silence. Then all pandemonium broke out and Heyes found himself the center of a greeting frenzy.

“Oh wow! Hannibal Heyes!”

“It's really him—in our house!”

“An honour to meet you sir.”

“Can you show us some card tricks!?”

“Papa says you can make cards dance!”

“Can you show us how to open a safe?”

“Boys! Show some manners!” Sarah cut in on the boisterous greetings. “Give our guests the chance to settle in for goodness sakes!”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.”

“That's alright,” Heyes was grinning. “It's good to meet you all.”

Then Evelyn, who'd had enough of being overshadowed by her brothers took Jed's hand again and started to pull him towards the sitting room.

“C'mon Mr. Curry,” she insisted. “Papa said that you can wait in here and we can give you drinks.”

“Offer them drinks,” Sarah corrected her.

“Yeah,” Eve didn't get the difference.

Sarah laughed. “Well, if you gentlemen will excuse me. I will leave you in the capable hands of my children while I get back to dinner preparations. We're having pot roast tonight,” she informed them with a twinkle at Jed. “As I said, Kenny will be home any minute so just make yourselves comfortable.”

“Yes ma'am.”

“Thank you Sarah.”

Within moments the fellas found themselves settled into very comfortable chairs and being handed glasses of sherry. Then Joe poured ones for himself and his brothers, this being a special occasion and all. He even offered one to his sister, but Evelyn just made a face and let it be known that she was above such things. Truth of it was, William found the drink too 'adult' for his taste buds as well, but he sure wasn't going to let it be known that he wasn't just as capable as his brothers!

“So, your father tells me you're taking engineering, Joseph. Is that right?” Jed asked the oldest son.

“Yessir Mr. Curry,” Joe confirmed. “I'll be starting my final year in September.”

“Good for you. Are you enjoying it?”

Joe grinned. “Oh yes sir! I've always found it fascinating how things get built. You know, like tall buildings and bridges! Like how do you build a bridge across a canyon—or a river? It's amazing what you can do once you understand the dimensions and the mathematics of it!”

“Hmm,” Heyes took a sip of his sherry. “I suppose I never really thought about it that way before,” he admitted. “always looking at the problem from the other end of things you might say.”

Joe regarded Heyes then, looking him straight in the eye. “The things I've heard about you Mr. Heyes,” he said. “They say you were a criminal genius.”

Heyes sighed, a look of regret flashing across his dark eyes. “Don't believe everything you hear people say, Joe.”

“But even my professors at college acknowledge your mathematical ability and intuition,” he persisted. “That's one of the reasons I wanted to meet you. I don't know, I thought maybe I could learn from you.”

Heyes smiled at him. “You seem to be doing alright,” he commented. “You're already miles ahead of me. For all of my so called brains, here I am coming up on forty years of age and what do I have to show for it? A criminal record, who knows how many years on parole and barely a penny to my name. The best thing you could learn from me Joseph, is what not to do with your gifts.”

“I don't think I agree with that Mr. Heyes,” Joe countered him. “My father says you have a lot to offer still. That you've done amazing things already, just on the wrong side of the law and that once you find your footing, you will do amazing things again.”

Jed couldn't help but grin at the comical look of bewilderment that got stuck on Heyes' face. How could this young man just into his mid-twenties be so self-possessing and confident? Heyes remembered back to being that age himself and feeling just as confident in his abilities but with that had come an arrogance that had gotten him into trouble more than once. But Joe didn't give any indication of arrogance, just a quiet assurance and an acceptance of his own talents. Finally Heyes smiled; he liked this young man—very much.  
Then the front door opened and the man of the house was home. Evelyn had been sitting beside her hero, not willing to relinquish her position of honour—that is, not until her father came home.

“Papa!” Evelyn greeted him, and jumping to her feet ran from the room to end up in her father's arms, welcoming him home.

“How is my young lady this evening?” they could hear Kenny's voice from the hallway.

“Good Papa.”

Heyes suddenly had a knot in his stomach at the sound of that voice and it took him by surprise. Why was he so nervous? He hadn't done anything wrong and Kenny wasn't here to reprimand him—this was a social visit. This was silly; there was nothing to be afraid of!  
The two men stood up as Kenny entered the sitting room, supporting his daughter in his left arm while she hugged his throat. He smiled as he stepped forward and shook each of their hands.

“Evening gentlemen,” he greeted them. “Are my children treating you with all due respect?”

“Yessir.”

“They've been fine hosts,” Jed assured him, then added with a twinkle.... “and hostess.”

Evelyn giggled and hid her face in the nap of her father's neck.

“Listen darlin', you and I are going to have to stop greeting one another like this,” Kenny complained as he set his daughter down on her own feet. “You are getting to be far too grown up a young lady for my back to handle it. Off you go now—help your mother.”

“Yes Papa!”

Kenny smiled at his guests as he stretched out his back. “Oh my! They do keep growing don't they?”

“Yup, they do at that,” Jed agreed. “I swear she's an inch taller every time I see her.”

“Hmm, not to mention a few pounds heavier,” then Kenny smiled and put a hand on Heyes' shoulder. “How's it going Heyes? You settling in at home alright?”

Heyes tried to force himself not to tense up and he smiled a little abashedly. “Yeah, okay I suppose.”

Jed and Kenny exchanged a quick glance and then Kenny nodded.

“Well, we can talk about that later,” he said. “In the meantime, just relax. I'll go get changed and join you in a moment.”

“Yessir.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Everyone settled into their respective chairs again as they heard Kenny's voice drifting to them from the kitchen and then Sarah laughing. Jed always felt comfortable in this house and with this family and looking over at his cousin, hoped that Heyes would too. Heyes however was looking distracted, his thoughts obviously miles away, but were they close enough to be up at the prison? In an effort to get his partner's focus back into the here and now Jed started up the conversation again.

“So Charlie,” he began to the middle son. “I hear you're going to be taking up medicine.”

Charlie suddenly looked a little uncomfortable at being the focus of attention but he smiled with pleasure too at being recognized.

“Yes!” he was very adamant. “I wasn't sure if I would be able to go this year but with father getting his promotion, well,” he grinned even more and looked over at his older brother. “it's going to be great fun!”

Joseph laughed. “Yes! Great fun! But a lot of work too, younger brother! Medicine's not an easy program.”

“No,” Heyes agreed with that wholeheartedly. “You talk about me being smart, Joe; but the two doctors I've come to know over these past five years have put me to shame on more than one occasion.” Then he looked over at his cousin with a quiet contemplation. “Our local doctor even saved Jed's life when the odds were stacked against it. That young man continues to amaze me. So Charlie, if you can be half the doctor that David Gibson is, and Doc Morin was then you'll have something to be proud of.”

“Oh yeah, Dr. Morin,” Charlie nodded. “he was a colourful character but a good man. Our whole family considered him a friend. He's the main reason I want to go into medicine.”

“Really?” Heyes asked with a smile. “That's good. Doc would have liked that.”

Then Evelyn's face appeared at the threshold. “Supper's ready!”

The evening meal was quite successful and Heyes had to admit that the Kid's enthusiastic ravings concerning Sarah's pot roast were not an exaggeration. Everyone went back for seconds.  
The supper conversation continued on from the one in the sitting room, with Joe and Charlie both excited about starting their new terms and talking back and forth and over top of each other until Sarah finally settled them down and turned the topics over more towards their guests.

“Mr. Heyes,” she smiled over at him. “I realize you haven't been out for very long, but do you have any plans for yourself yet? Any thoughts for your future?”

“Oh, ah mm,” Heyes fidgeted a little bit. “ah, no ma'am. Haven't given it much thought really—no.”

“Please, call me 'Sarah',” she said as she gave him a reassuring pat on his hand. “Jed does!”

“Oh! Ah, yes alright,” Heyes agreed. “Everyone back home seems to be calling me 'Hannibal' now, or just 'Heyes'. Whichever one you prefer.”

And then he sent a quick, almost embarrassed glance over to Kenny only to find that man watching him intently. Heyes frowned a little bit, uncomfortable with being scrutinized but then Sarah picked up the conversation again and drew his attention back to her.

“I know you don't have much formal education, but you do have a lot to offer,” she commented. “Have you considered teaching?”

It was a good thing Jed had already swallowed his mouthful or he would have choked on it. Heyes sent him a quick, insulted look and then smiled back to Sarah.

“Ah, teaching...no,” he admitted. “I don't think...ahm...right now I'm just doing some light ranch work for my friend and benefactor, Mr. Jordan. He has been good enough to give myself and Jed a place to stay and jobs until we get something else going.”

“Oh yes! Mr. Jordan,” Sarah responded then smiled coyly over at Jed. “I understand that one of you at least is going to be getting more than that soon.”

Jed looked up from his meal as he realized that the conversation had turned in his direction. He grinned. “Oh! Yes, Beth and I are plannin' on gettin' married next month. So I suppose that would make Jesse my father-in-law.”

“Congratulations!” Sarah enthused and her sentiments were quickly echoed by everyone else at the table. 

Well, everyone that is except for Evelyn. She didn't look too happy about that news at all. Heyes just grinned.

“Yes, congratulations Jed,” Kenny put in as soon as he had the chance. “I realized you and Miss Jordan were courting but I didn't know you were betrothed. That is good news. She impressed me as a very intelligent and self-possessing young lady. You'll make a fine couple.”

“Thank you,” Jed responded and then perked up. “Say! Why don't you and Sarah come to the weddin'? I mean, you already know most of the family so you'd fit right in and I know Belle would love to meet you.”

“Well thank you,” Kenny answered. “but that day should just be for family and friends, don't you think?”

“You're a friend Kenny,” came the quiet statement from Heyes and everyone stopped and looked over to him. He gave a soft smile then. “Jeez, I mean; we've been through hell together. Aside from Jed you know more about me than anybody else. You saved my life, Kenny.”

Silence settled on the table. Then Kenny nodded. “And you saved mine, Heyes.”

“Well, if that doesn't make us all friends.....”

Kenny and Sarah exchanged smiles across the table. “Yes, alright!” he agreed. “I will see about arranging some time off at the prison. That takes a little bit more doing now that I'm the warden, you know!”

“But you're the boss!” Heyes teased him. “You can do whatever you want!”

“Ha! Yeah, right!”

“Speaking of wardens,” Heyes began, turning serious again. “what became of Mitchell? I know he retired, but....”

“I believe he went back to his home state,” Kenny informed them. “He still has family there so it seemed the logical choice.”

“And which state is that?” Heyes pushed. “Just so I'll know to avoid it.”

Kenny smiled a little ironically. “I believe he was from Missouri.”

Heyes and Kid both stopped chewing and exchanged looks.

“Missouri?” Kid repeated. “He's from the south?”

Kenny shrugged. “Many of us are,” he pointed out. “I mean, you two are from Kansas. I'm from Kentucky. Why should it surprise you that he would be from the south as well?”

The two cousins exchanged glances again. 

“I don't know,” Heyes admitted. “I suppose it shouldn't, but....I just didn't expect it that's all.”

Kenny nodded. “Well,” he stated with a big sigh. “I'm full. How about we adjourn to the sitting room for coffee? There's some things I want to discuss.”

This suggestion was agreed upon by all the men at the table until Kenny put the brakes on, much to the disappointment of his three sons.

“Just us, fellas,” the father told them. “for now. Perhaps later on our guests can chat with you some more but for right now, your mother needs help clearing up and then I'm sure you can find other things to occupy yourselves with.”

“Aww!”

“But Pa!”

“Oh, Father!”

“Nope. Later,” Kenny would not relent. “C'mon fellas, give us some time.”

Grumblings could be heard all around as Kenny led his guests back into the sitting room and closed the double doors on the complaints. The three men settled in once again and Heyes for one breathed a sigh of relief.

“Jed was right,” he said. “you do have a wonderful family Kenny, and they are awfully enthusiastic!”

Kenny grinned. He knew his brood were hard to take for the uninitiated and even Jed hadn't had to deal with all four at one time.

“You handled the situation very well,” Kenny complimented the ex-con. “They were very excited about meeting you, especially Joe. You two, I believe, have a lot in common.” 

“So he seems to think,” Heyes responded. “I think he would do better to listen to his professors...and to his father, than to me.”

“You might surprise yourself,” Kenny countered. “you are looking much better. Funny how a head of hair can change a person's appearance so drastically. I could certainly see the resemblance between you and your daughter before, but now—there could be no denying it! She's her father's girl alright.”

Heyes grinned with pleasure. “Does that mean that I'm narcissistic when I say that she's beautiful?”

Kenny laughed out loud. Jed looked confused.

“NO!” Kenny denied the suggestion. “Unless you want to say that all parents are narcissists. We all think our children are beautiful.”

Heyes was still grinning. He was relaxing again in the company of this man and knew then, for a fact that their relationship had grown beyond the bars and the bully clubs. That indeed, it had grown beyond that even while they had still been bound by the rules and social strata that life inside the prison had dictated. Heyes knew then, that Kenny and his family were indeed his friends and that nothing was ever going to change that.  
A soft tapping at the door interrupted this observation and Evelyn opened it to be followed in by her mother carrying a tray loaded down with coffee cups and three slices of fresh baked pie. Heyes and Kid were on their feet instantly to assist with this offering.

“Thank you!” Sarah told them, appreciating the offer, but turning it down none the less. “but you're our guests so I'll just set the tray down here and leave you men to it!”

Then she and her daughter made a hasty retreat while the men helped themselves to coffee and dessert.  
Once they had all settled into their chairs again, Kenny took another close look at the dark haired man and decided it was time to dig a little. This was, after all part of why he had invited them to come for a visit; it wasn't all for the sake of his children's curiosity!

“How are you doing otherwise, Heyes?” he asked the younger man. “Are you settling in alright?”

Heyes shrugged a little self-consciously. “Yeah sure,” he lied.

Kenny smiled. He and Jed exchanged at look.

“What?” Heyes asked, suddenly feeling defensive.

“C'mon Heyes,” Jed admonished him. “it's us, remember? You're having a hard time of it and all of us here know it.”

“Well if we all know it then why do we need to talk about it?” came back Heyes' almost sarcastic remark.

“Oh boy,” Kenny mumbled as he took a sip of coffee. “still has the stubborn streak I see.”

“Yeah,” Kid agreed. “even prison couldn't beat that outa 'em.”

“Oh, you're a fine one to talk!” Heyes shot back. “I don't know anyone more stubborn than you!”

“Heyes, why are you getting so angry?” Kenny asked him. “We only want to help. It's a tough adjustment to make and I've seen too many ex-cons not make it and end up right back in prison again. As I stated the day of your release; I don't want to see you back there. I want you to be successful.”

Heyes instantly felt contrite. Why had he gotten angry?

“Yeah. Yeah you're right,” he admitted. “I don't know...I just...I get feeling so defensive, like I have to protect myself all the time. I know you're both my friends—I know that.”

“I know, after almost five years in that hostile environment it shouldn't come as a surprise that you're still feeling on edge,” Kenny acknowledged. “Are you sleeping alright?”

Heyes shrugged. “I suppose.”

“Heyes!” Kid got after him.

“OH alright!!” Heyes gave up the pretence. Trying to sidestep just one of these men is hard enough, but both of them together was a losing proposition. 

“Still having the nightmares?” Kenny asked.

“YES!” Heyes threw back at him, finding himself getting angry again. He took a deep breath and a big gulp of coffee, forcing himself to calm down. “Yes,” he then said, more reasonably. “Pretty much every night. David has given me some medication to help me sleep, but the dreams still break through.”

“The same dreams? The ones about Doc?”

“Yeah,” Heyes nodded and then sat back, running a hand through his hair. “Over and over again. He's still insisting that it was Carson who killed him.”

“Do you think that it might just be that you hated Carson so much that you want him to be the guilty party?” Kenny asked him.

Heyes looked up and met those gray eyes. “Yeah,” he admitted. “Actually, I keep telling myself that's all it is, but the dreams aren't going away. Now Beth is becoming a part of them too.”

“You're having nightmares about Beth?” Jed asked, suddenly concerned again.

“Yeah, ever since her accident.”

“Wait wait,” said Kenny, sitting up straighter. “What accident?”

“Well, ah...Beth got knocked down by a runaway team of horses at the 4th of July celebrations,” Jed explained. “Scared all of us.”

“Oh my goodness,” Kenny commiserated. “Is she alright?”

“Yeah,” Jed assured him. “Mild concussion and a couple of cracked ribs but David says she's gonna be fine.”

“Well that's good,” Kenny was honestly relieved. “It was just an accident then?”

This time it was Heyes and Curry who exchanged the glances and Kenny looked from one to the other of them.

“Was it?” he asked again. “just an accident?”

“Well, we don't know,” Jed admitted. “An hour or so before the incident, Beth finally admitted to us that she had been approached by a man whom she didn't recognize, and though she insists that he hadn't really threatened her, she still felt threatened. If you know what I mean.”

“Oh yes,” Kenny nodded emphatically. “That is not to be taken lightly.” He sat back and contemplated the situation. “Mr. Jordan is quite a wealthy man, isn't he?”

“Well, yeah. But....” Jed shrugged. “if someone wanted money wouldn't they have just grabbed Beth and then started making demands?”

“If they wanted money, yes,” Kenny agreed. “But perhaps they want revenge for some—hardship? Does Mr. Jordan have any enemies?”

“Not that I know of,” Jed answered. “He's wealthy, yes. But he got there through hard work and solid investments—and having Beth as his accountant!”

Everyone smiled and nodded agreement on that statement. But then Kenny turned serious again.

“Still,” he continued. “a person's mind can become twisted in the way they view things. A small incident, though totally innocent from a logical point of view could grow into a burning injustice to the point where action needs to be taken to exact revenge for the imagined betrayal. Believe me, it happens! And the person seeking the revenge truly believes that they are justified.”

“Is there anything we can do to protect her?” Heyes asked, suddenly very concerned—along with his cousin.

“At this point, not really,” Kenny admitted. “and, perhaps it was just an accident. But keep an eye on her and caution her to be careful and by all means, to report anything unusual. Even if it seems trivial at the time, she's to let you know if anything else happens that makes her feel 'uncomfortable'. And perhaps ask her father if there is anyone he can think of who might stoop that low. You never know.”

“Hmm,” Heyes nodded.

A tap on the door. “More coffee anyone?” Sarah asked.

“Oh yes!”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you Sarah,” Kenny smiled at her. “That was a very nice dinner tonight.”

Sarah beamed at her husband while their two guests backed up Kenny's complement with ones of their own.

“Well thank you gentlemen,” she smiled at them. “and let me say that you are welcome to join us for dinner any time.”

“Thank you.”

“We just might take you up on that!”

Sarah then departed, leaving the men to continue on with their discussion.

“Let me know if I can be of any help to you,” Kenny offered his friends. “If Beth sees him again and can give a better description—you never know, if he's done time we might have information on him.”

“Oh yeah,” Jed perked up. “I never thought of that.”

“Where's Carson now?” Heyes asked out of the blue, but there was a hard glint to his eye that both men noticed.

“I believe he's still in Arizona,” Kenny informed him quietly. “Why?”

“Oh I donno,” Heyes admitted in frustration. “Probably just me hoping to find him guilty of something!”

“Do you have any reason to feel that he might threaten Beth?”

“No.”

“Does he even know Mr. Jordan?”

“No!” Heyes insisted again. “Look, just forget I asked. It doesn't matter. I was just thinking out loud.”

“Okay,” Kenny agreed to drop it. “So everything else is going alright?”

“Yeah, aside from what we've already discussed,” Heyes nodded. “Everybody is being very supportive.”

“Good.”

“He even has himself a new girlfriend,” Jed just couldn't help himself and he was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

The look Heyes sent his cousin would have put him right back into prison if it had manifested itself into action. Kenny grinned. 

“A new girlfriend?” he asked.

“Yeah...well...no. I mean...sorta....” Heyes sighed in defeat and slumped his shoulders. “She's David's cousin through marriage and she's recently widowed, so....but she's younger than I am...so she's....”

“She's very pretty,” Jed filled in the blanks.

“Oh?”

“And rich.”

“Ohh!?”

Heyes tried very hard to stay angry, but then couldn't help but return the smiles he was getting from his friends and he gave it up as a lost cause.

“We're seeing each other,” he finally admitted. “but we're taking it slow. We both have a lot of things to work out first.”

Kenny sobered up and nodded in agreement. “You're right,” he said. “Letting things move ahead too quickly now could ruin what might be a good thing. That is good news though Heyes, I hope it works out for you.”

Heyes grinned up at his friend. Then there came another soft tapping at the door and Sarah opened it to show a rather shy Evelyn standing there, holding a box in her hands.

“It's almost time for Eve to say 'goodnight',” Sarah explained. “so she was wondering if she could give Mr. Heyes his present now?”

“Ohh! I forgot all about that!” Kenny exclaimed, sitting up straighter in his chair. “By all means Eve, come in!”

Heyes sent a questioning glance over to Jed who simply shrugged and shook his head; this was news to him. Sarah gave Evelyn a gentle push into the room, and looking pleased, but nervous the child came over to the ex-con and placed the little box on his lap.

“This is from Mouse,” she said.

Heyes felt the box vibrate and he creased his brow and sent another questioning look over to his cousin. Jed was ginning, but he still didn't know what it was. Heyes looked over at Kenny but wasn't getting much more than a smile from him either.

“Ahh, well thank you Evelyn,” Heyes finally found his tongue. “I don't know.....”

And true to his word, Heyes really didn't know what to do next and he just sat there, holding the box and feeling the energy emitting from it. He really was at a loss.

“Aren't you going to open it Mr. Heyes?” Evelyn asked, suddenly feeling worried that he didn't want it.

“Ohh,” Heyes came out of his trance and he smiled into those gray eyes that were so much like her father's. “Yes, of course I'm going to open it. I was just surprised.”

Evelyn smiled with her own excitement and then looked expectantly over at the box. Well?

Heyes did another quick look around the room and then with embarrassingly un-nimble fingers he pulled open the lid and his throat tightened up with emotion as a smile took over his face.

“Well, what is it?” Jed asked, no longer being able to contain his own curiosity.

Heyes squeezed his hand into the box and lifted out a small vibrating ball of gray tabby fluff—with legs! The tiny creature let out a tentative 'mew' and then the vibrating increased in volume as Heyes cuddled it in both his hands and brought it in against his chest. She started to need his hand and rub her whiskers against a thumb. And then she started to drool.  
Heyes' face was like a little boy's at Christmas and Jed could feel his own face grinning like a fool. He glanced over at Kenny who was himself watching Heyes quite intently. Heyes began to gently pat the tiny head and scratch the upright ears; her fur was so soft, her eyes were so green.

“Do you like her?” Evelyn asked, her eyes shining hope.

Heyes smiled over at her. “Oh yes,” he swallowed and cleared his throat. “Thank you. This is the best present I've had in a very long time.”

Evelyn grinned her pleasure. “Mouse had a litter of kittens and Papa thought that this one was the most like her and that she would be the one that you would like the best.”

“I do like her,” Heyes agreed. “she's beautiful.”

“Okay, time for bed young lady,” Sarah called her over. “say 'goodnight'.”

Evelyn accepted her fate and gave each of their guests a hug and a kiss on the cheek and then went to her father and gave him an extra big hug and he kissed her on the forehead. Heyes watched this affectionate exchange between father and daughter with just a hint of longing in his eyes but then he smiled and continued to stroke the purring little ball in his hand.

“Goodnight sweetheart,” Kenny said. “Pleasant dreams.”

“Goodnight Papa. Goodnight Mr. Heyes,” and then an extra big smile. “Goodnight Mr. Curry.”

“Goodnight darlin'.”

After the two ladies had gone, Kenny and Jed continued to watch Heyes who was himself totally oblivious to their scrutiny. He continued to gently stroke the purring kitten while the smile on his face hung there, like an old favourite song that just wouldn't go away.

“You know,” Kenny finally broke the spell. “you don't have to accept it if you don't want to. A house cat can be quite a responsibility.”

“Yeah,” Kid commented, teasingly. “what's Belle gonna say?”

But Heyes refused to rise to the bait and continued to sit quietly, gently stroking the soft fur.

The other two men exchanged smiles and then Kenny got up and poured out three shot glasses of brandy. He handed one to Jed and then put the second one on the side table next to Heyes before sitting back down with his own glass.

“Well Heyes, here's to new friends,” Kenny toasted. “It seems you have a few.”

“What? Oh! Yes. New friends,” he agreed and stopped stroking the kitten long enough to pick up the glass. “And to old friends as well,” he added with a smile and they all settled back to enjoy their brandy's.

Half an hour later, the kitten was sound asleep on Heyes' lap and the three men were relaxed and enjoying idle conversation when another soft rapping was heard on the door.

“Yes?” Kenny called out.

The door quietly pushed open and the eldest son poked his head into the study.

“Sorry to disturb you father,” he lied very politely. “but we were hoping that if it isn't too late and if Mr. Heyes isn't too tired that he might show us some of his card tricks.”

“Oh...ah...” Kenny sent an enquiring look to Heyes and was surprised to notice an instant change in his demeanour.

At the first sound of the request Heyes' heart had jumped into his throat and he felt his hands go numb with fear. Kenny saw his complexion turn pale and his whole countenance became one of a man who was in distress and trying to hide it. Heyes looked down at the kitten in his lap and began to stroke her again in an attempt to distract from his discomfort.

“Ahh...I don't....” Kenny began to deny the request until Jed caught his eye and sent him a subtle but very pointed nod of affirmation. “Sure,” Kenny changed in mid sentence. “I don't think that will be a problem.”

Heyes drew in a sharp breath when he heard Kenny agree and then snapping his head up he and the warden locked eyes. Joe closed the door with a lot more emphasis than he had used opening it and they could hear his voice as he headed back towards the kitchen.

“Yes! Father says he will!”

“Oh wow! We actually get to see him do it!”

“Quick! Where's that deck of cards Papa thinks we don't know about!?”

Kenny smiled. “They just think I don't think they know.”

Heyes shifted nervously in his chair. “Ahh, Kenny....I don't think I should.....”

Jed stepped in quickly, clapping a hand on his cousin's shoulder. “Naw, c'mon Heyes!” he cajoled with a grin. “I had to show them my fast draw—now it's your turn. It'll be fun!”

Heyes felt the palms of his hands start to sweat. He was afraid his teeth were going to start chattering, suddenly he was so cold. “No...I don't really want to.”

“Just give them half an hour or so Heyes,” Curry continued on, ignoring his partner's obvious distress. “That ought to keep them happy. You got that deck of cards Kenny?”

Kenny had been sitting quietly watching the interplay between the two men. It was clear that Heyes was trying to get out of putting on a display but Curry wasn't letting him get away with it. Jed was pushing him, taking control and not taking 'no' for an answer. This was odd. Heyes had always enjoyed playing with the deck of cards and even in showing Kenny some of his ability; so why was he so afraid of it now?  
Kenny's scrutiny of Heyes was broken by Jed's enquiry and the older man looked up and met the blue eyes. Jed was smiling, his tone light but his eyes were deadly serious and the message he was sending was as clear as if he'd spoken it out loud; 'Back me up on this. This is important.'

Kenny got to his feet. “Yes,” he confirmed. “I keep moving it around just to keep the boys guessing, but I know exactly where the deck of cards is.”

“Good!” Jed rejoiced as he got to his feet and started to follow Kenny towards the door. “Let's go show those youngsters what a pro can do!” Then he noticed that Heyes wasn't joining them and he turned in mid stride and went back to grab the anxious man by the arm. “C'mon Heyes!” he said, pulling him to his feet. “You can bring your kitten!”

Before Heyes had a chance to dig in his heels, Jed had hustled him into the kitchen and set him down at the table. Everyone (except for poor Eve, who being the youngest always seemed to miss out on all the fun stuff) was either sitting or standing around the same table with excitement written all over their faces, leaning forward with eyes bright with expectation.  
Heyes realized that he was trapped. He took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm himself down; why was he so nervous? Even he couldn't understand it. He continued to stroke the kitten, who continued to purr while she got re-settled into his lap again and prepared to continue with her nap. Heyes smiled up at the eager faces around him and then turned and met the gaze of his partner. Jed smiled and nodded quietly at him and Heyes took another deep breath and forced himself to calm down.

“Here you go,” said Kenny as he plunked the relatively new deck of cards onto the table in front of their guest. “Whatever you want Heyes. So long as it doesn't involve cheating.”

Heyes grinned and then wiped his palms against his pant legs. “Okay,” he said quietly. “Ahh, just let me warm up a bit alright? It's been a while.”

“Sure Mr. Heyes,” Joe told him. “I think even watching you warm up will be interesting.”

“Yeah!” Charlie was quick to agree.

Heyes smiled again, still nervous but he finally left the kitten to her own devices and picked up the deck of cards. He started out easy; cutting the deck and re-stacking it, spreading out the cards, bringing them back together again, shuffling, cutting the deck again. All the while he was flexing his fingers, stretching out the joints, introducing himself to this particular deck of cards. His nervousness was silly; he had no trouble with a deck of cards when he was by himself or playing a casual game with Kyle Why should he be so stressed about showing some simple card tricks to some kids?  
He began to relax as he became more and more focused on the cards and less focused on his audience, but his audience was certainly focused on him. What was to him simple warming up exercises was to them amazing examples of nimble dexterity and control. The three boys watched with opened mouths and incredulous eyes as Hannibal Heyes made the cards dance.  
The smile on Heyes' face transformed from a nervous twitch to an all out pleasurable grin as his fingers and his heart warmed up to the challenge. Oh! He was home again! Yes—this did feel good!  
He looked up as he continued to play the cards and his grin increased when he saw that his audience was indeed entranced. Even Kenny, who had known what to expect was watching in quiet amazement while Sarah temporarily forgot about the coffee pot she was holding.

“Okay,” said Heyes when he decided that he had warmed up enough. “Kenny, if you could deal out twenty-five cards from the deck.” Kenny smiled, knowing what was coming and was happy to help out. “Now the object of this exercise,” Heyes explained to his audience. “is for me to be able to make five pat hands out of those twenty-five cards that your father is dealing out. It doesn't always work,” he admitted with a smile. “but it works often enough to be impressive.” 

And impressed they were! So much so that the boys insisted that he keep on doing it until he was finally dealt a set that would not allow him to complete the play. By the time that happened Heyes was so warmed up to the challenge that he had given the kitten full custody of the chair and was himself standing up and leaning over the table along with everyone else. He was totally focused on what he was doing.  
Once the five pat hand display had run its course Heyes carried on with some slight of hand; making the cards disappear and then show up in the oddest of places. Shuffling the deck, naming a card and then cutting the deck to expose that very card up on top. 'Ooww's' and 'Ahhh's' were abundant and Heyes was back in his element.  
Jed sat quietly, watching his partner exploding out of his shell, his confidence building with every manoeuvre he made; with every card that danced and flipped and took on a life of its own. And Jed smiled; he knew they weren't there yet, but step by step, one hurdle after another, his partner was coming back to him. He flicked his eyes up and found Kenny watching him—geesh that man just never missed a thing! Jed's grin deepened and he nodded; this was a good thing!  
The half hour display quickly turned into two hours and the boys, especially William were beginning to stifle yawns. Kenny suggested they call it a night but was met by such an uproar of protest that he had to relent and agree to a compromise.

“Okay,” he submitted. “another fifteen minutes. And then you two...” and he pointed at Charlie and William. “....are off to bed. It's late. I'm sure Mr. Heyes is getting tired as well.”

Heyes smiled. “Oh, I'm alright Kenny,” he assured his friend. “but I wouldn't mind a break to use the convenience.”

“Good idea,” Kenny agreed. “I'm sure there are others here who could stand to do the same.”

“I'm good till we're done,” Charlie declared.

“Me too,” William insisted.

“Well it's dark out there now,” Sarah observed. “so Joe if you could take the lantern and show Mr. Heyes the way that would be appreciated. “

“Yes ma'am,” Joseph was quick to agree, mainly because he was thinking much the same thing as Mr. Heyes; it was time for a break!

Joe got the lantern and then he and Heyes made a hasty retreat out the back door. Everyone else relaxed and stretched and found some new comfortable positions to settle in to. Sarah stoked up the stove and set about making a fresh pot of coffee so that once the two younger boys had gone to bed, the five adults could sit and relax for a bit before their guests made their way back to the hotel. Fortunately it would not be that long of a walk.  
Once the coffee was set on the stove to perk, Sarah returned to the table and sat down. Jed smiled at everyone there, a mischievous glint in his eye. Kenny knew he was up to something.

“You boys able to keep a secret?” Jed asked of William and Charlie.

Both boys perked up, eyes bright.

“Yes!”

“Sure!”

Jed chuckled. “Good. How about you two?” he asked of the adults present. “Can you keep a straight face? Well I know you can Kenny! How about you Sarah?”

Sarah smiled over at her husband, then nodded at Jed. “I've been known to keep a secret or two. What do you have in mind?”

“Well I just wanna test Heyes,” Jed admitted. “Actually I want Heyes to test himself, without him knowin' he's testin' himself. If you know what I mean.”

He got blank looks sent back to him. He smiled and nodded. “Okay. Just....just play along.” And then Jed carefully cut the deck of cards and without moving them from their position on the table he gently slid out a card from the center of the deck and hid it in his shirt pocket. He then delicately placed the top half of the deck back on to the lower half and took his hand away, leaving the deck looking much the same as when Heyes had left the table.  
Kenny and Sarah exchanged looks again and both of them were understandably dubious.

“Now you don't mean to tell me that he can....” Kenny began.

“Shhh,” Jed whispered. “Let's just see what he does. This is more for him than for us. Let's just wait and see.”

A few moments later Heyes and Joe returned to the table and everyone did their best to remain casual. Heyes must have been getting tired because he didn't notice any change in the atmosphere and taking possession of his chair, he moved the kitten back onto his lap and both of them stretched out their arms (legs) and fingers (claws) before settling in again.

“Okay,” Heyes announced as he picked up the deck. “one more play and then we call it a night, alright?”

“Sure Mr. Heyes,” Joe agreed.

“Yeah, thanks for showing us this stuff,” William seconded, covering a yawn. “It was really interesting.”

Charlie didn't want to risk saying anything.

Heyes smiled and began to shuffle the deck. “What I'm going to show you now is how to tell when someone is.....”

Heyes stopped shuffling the deck. He stopped talking as a look of consternation fleeted across his face. Jed's heart leapt into his throat; he'd been afraid that Heyes wasn't going to notice anything, afraid that maybe he had lost that all important sensitive touch. But now Heyes was stopped in his tracks, the deck of cards in his hands. Silence settled over the table.

“What's the matter Heyes?” Jed asked innocently. “Somethin' wrong?”

“Well I.....” Heyes' brows pinched together just for an instant and then he just sat there staring at the the cards, confusion plain as day written across his face. 

Then Charlie couldn't hold it together any longer and he burst out laughing. Heyes looked up, startled.

“What...?”

And then the whole kitchen fell apart and everyone was laughing—except for Joe who was looking just as confused as Heyes was. Then Jed reached into his breast pocket and presented Heyes with the absconded with card. Heyes' eyes lit upon it and realization dawned as a grin spread across his face and invaded his dimples.

“Ho ho! Heyes!” Jed slapped him on the back. “Ya' did it! You can't tell me now that you're not ready for a small town poker game! You haven't lost anything partner—you still got it!”

Heyes continued to grin, feeling a little embarrassed that he'd been set up so neatly, but pleased as well that he hadn't failed in the test. Lil' Mouse stretched and yawned and looked up at her human with love in her eyes, wondering what all the commotion was about. The laughing around the table was infectious and Heyes couldn't help but join in. Joe still looked confused.

“Boy oh boy!” Kenny exclaimed, shaking his head. “That sure was something. If anyone had offered me a bet on that I would not have taken it!”

“What!?” asked Joe, feeling left out. “What did he do!?”

“We'll tell you over coffee,” Sarah said through her smile. “Meanwhile; you two—off to bed! It's late.”

“Yes momma.”

“Yes ma'am. Goodnight Mr. Curry. Nice to meet you Mr. Heyes. Thanks for showing us the cards. You're great!”

“Yeah, that sure was something!”

And the two younger boys disappeared down the hall to prepare for bed.

Both parents sighed with relief. “I thought that was going to be harder,” Sarah admitted. “It's going to take them awhile to settle down.”

“Yeah, but at least they're headed in the right direction,” Kenny pointed out. 

“So what happened?” Joe asked, his curiosity still demanding attention.

Sarah put everyone in possession of coffee and then sat down herself as Kenny explained the event that had just taken place.

“Jed removed one of the cards from the deck while you fellas were outside,” he told his eldest. “He wanted to see if Heyes could tell just by the feel of the deck that a card was missing,” Kenny chuckled and looked over at the man himself. “and obviously he could!”

Joe was suitably impressed. “Wow,” he smiled. “I'm really going to enjoy telling Professor McKinley about this.” Heyes raised an enquiring eyebrow. “Oh, he's the head of the mathematics department and holds you in quite high esteem. He wouldn't admit to it at first, but once he realized that my father was a guard at the prison here, well he begrudgingly owned up to it.”

“Oh,” Heyes wasn't sure to be pleased or not. To have a professional man like that acknowledge his abilities was certainly a compliment, but....well for a man in his position to openly admit admiration for an outlaw...yeah, it kinda made sense that he'd be cautious about that. “I'm honoured,” he finally decided.

Kenny had been sitting back drinking his coffee throughout this exchange. His mind was working on something and finally he put it into words.

“I'm wondering if there's some way you can use your talents for legal purposes,” he commented quietly. “Have you ever considered something like that?” Then he smiled at the irony. “Start working for the banks or the gambling commission as an adviser or something. Just a thought.”

Heyes and Kid exchanged a look and they both smiled.

“Actually we have done work like that before,” Heyes told their friend. “Remember at my trial it did come up that we had done certain jobs for people in high places. Jobs that on the surface looked to be illegal but were in reality, sanctioned by the authorities.”

“Yes. That's right,” Kenny nodded. “What a shame none of them were willing to come forward to back that up.”

“Hmm,” Heyes grumbled. “The higher they are the farther they'll fall I suppose. None of them wanted to get their hands dirty.”

“I suppose that is the risk of doing work undercover,” Kenny observed. “If you get caught you can't really expect support from the people who hired you. So, maybe that isn't something you want to get involved in again.”

“I don't know what I want yet,” Heyes admitted with a heavy sigh. “Right now I don't feel like I'm up to anything. I still just....don't know....”

“Yes, and that's understandable,” Kenny agreed. “It was just a thought. It's good that Mr. Jordan is giving you a safe haven for now but I have a feeling that once you get back on your feet you're going to find ranch work limiting.” He laughed. “You're just not a rancher Heyes!”

Heyes smiled. “No. I know that. But for now—like you say; it's a safe haven.” Then his smile dropped. “I just wish the nightmares would go away.”

“I know,” Kenny nodded. “You're still healing. It takes the mind longer than the body sometimes. Dr. Morin's death still haunts you, I know. It does us all. That was a cruel twist of fate; he was a good man who had given a lot to the inmates over the years and he didn't deserve what happened.”

“No.”

“But the man who killed him is dead himself, Heyes,” Kenny pointed out.

“Is he?” Heyes looked up and met Kenny's gaze. “More and more I'm beginning to believe that he's not.”

Kenny and Jed exchanged looks and then Kenny sighed. “Well, as I said before; if you can come up with something tangible I'll help you out with the resources available to me. But in the mean time you just need to keep going in the direction you're going and get back on your feet!” 

It was well after midnight by the time Heyes and Kid began to make their way back to the hotel. They would be swinging by again in the morning to pick up the kitten and receive a picnic lunch from Sarah for their train ride home. Both men were feeling good about the visit and had promised to come back again as soon as they could. Jed reminded Kenny of his promise to come to the wedding and they'd all parted company with hand shakes and kisses to the appropriate people. It had been a good evening.

“What an unusual pair of outlaws,” Sarah commented as she and her husband settled into bed. “Heyes is nothing like what I imagined. All those sleepless nights he caused you—the fighting and the trouble he was getting himself into. He just seems too quiet and unassuming to have been the cause of so much strife.”

Kenny chuckled. “You're seeing him at his best—or his worst! I'm not really sure which to call it. Let's just say you're not seeing him as himself. Hannibal Heyes is a very intelligent, creative—even gifted man, but he came into the prison with a huge chip on his shoulder and the ego to match. Prison did a good job of battering him down to the bare essentials now it's up to him to decide how he's going to re-build himself. I truly believe that the core of the man is solid and with that support group surrounding him he'll have to work really hard to not make good.” Kenny sighed as he snuggled into his wife. “I think that over the next couple of years we're going to find out who Hannibal Heyes truly is and then stand by to be amazed!”

 

“They're coming!” Beth called out to her friends who were still busy tacking up the numerous horses inside the first barn.

Jed poked his head out the door and looked down the lane leading into the ranch yard. Sure enough, Rudy could be seen trotting friskily along, hitched up to the buggy with David at the lines and Tricia and Miranda along for the ride.

“Yeah, they're coming!” Jed seconded to the person still inside the structure. “We about ready?”

“Just about,” came Heyes' muffled reply from inside.

Jed came all the way out of the barn and coming up to Beth, put his arm affectionately around her waist while they awaited the new arrivals. David directed his little gelding over to come to a stand still by the happy couple and Jed stepped forward to take the horse's head.

“Hey David! Ladies!” he greeted his friends. “You're pretty much just in time.”

“Good!” said David. “No point hanging around.”

Everyone disembarked and then David moved around to the small storage compartment in the rear of the buggy and pulled out a saddle and bridle in preparation of changing their mode of transportation.  
The two ladies came forward, both of them—just like Beth—were looking very fetching in their riding habits. Jed smiled a greeting.

“Ladies,” he greeted them again. “I see we're all looking ready for our Sunday ride up to the meadow.”

“I have been looking forward to this all week!” Randa announced. “Is Hannibal around?”

“Yeah, he's just in the barn, getting the horses ready,” Jed told her.

Randa smiled and then practically skipped off in that direction while Tricia and Beth exchanged knowing glances. Then Beth took hold of Rudy's head so that Jed and David could quickly unharness him and then get the saddle and other riding gear put on in it's place. With the two of them working at it, it hardly took five minutes for the change in costume and then David threw his saddlebags across the back of the saddle and tied them down. They were ready to go.  
Belle came out of the house at this point, bringing with her small bundles of goodies for their picnic and of course to see them all off on their afternoon ride.

“Hello David, Tricia,” she greeted the guests. “What a lovely day you have for a ride.”

“Hello Belle,” David returned the greeting with a smile. “You and Jesse doing anything this afternoon?”

“Oh no,” Belle answered with a contented smile. “We are going to spend this afternoon sitting out on the front porch, relaxing. It will be nice to have the place to ourselves for a while.”

“Where's Jay?” asked Tricia. “Isn't he going to keep you busy?”

“NO!” Belle laughed. “He's over at Sam and Maribelle's for now, playing with Todd. Sam will be bringing him home in a couple of hours, but in the mean time—we have some peace and quiet.”

“That'll be a nice break,” Tricia smiled. She could relate to needing just a little time away from the offspring. Nathan himself was spending the afternoon with his grandma and that suited everyone just fine!

Inside the barn, the horses were all saddled up and ready to go and were wondering why they were all just standing around and not getting on with things. They were looking forward to a fun ride out in the back country themselves. Unfortunately the two humans who were apparently in charge of things had tucked themselves into a quiet corner of the barn and were stuck to each other's lips.  
Ho hum. Everybody else just sat down on a back hoof and waited. Who could tell how long this was going to take?

“Hannibal...we should...get out there....everyone's waiting....”

“Hmm....let them...wait...”

Randa laughed. “Hannibal...stop that!....Ohh, actually no...don't stop that.”

“HELLO! Anyone in here?”

“Oh crap!” Heyes mumbled, and the two miscreants quickly straightened themselves up and put in an appearance. “Hello Belle! We were just ah...getting the horses ready.”

Belle smiled at them; she wasn't fooled. “Well, here's your lunches. You may as well get them packed into the saddlebags.”

“Oh yes! Ahh, thank you,” Heyes stepped forward and took the packages. He handed some of them to Randa and they both began to divvy them up onto the various horses.

“You folks have a good time,” Belle told them, still with a twinkle in her eye. “We'll see you all back here for supper afterwards.”

“Yes indeed,” Heyes agreed.

“Yes,” Randa seconded. “Thank you so much.”

Belle turned and walked out of the barn. Heyes and Randa exchanged a pair of impish smiles and then they each gathered up numerous sets of reins and led the horses out of the barn.  
Outside, David was just giving Rudy's girth the second tightening up and then they were ready to go. Beth smiled fondly and quickly stepped forward to take the reins of her beloved Daisy while Jed relieved Heyes of Gov's possession. Miranda stood holding the reins of Spike and Monty, not sure who was supposed to get which mount.

“Which of you two ladies is the better rider?” Heyes asked.

“Well, considering Tricia grew up on a ranch, I would expect she is,” Randa reasoned. “I haven't done too much riding.”

“Okay,” Heyes suggested. “then Tricia you can ride Spike and Randa, you'll be safe and sound on Monty.”

A little bit of shuffling and soon everyone had their appropriate mount. Neither Beth or Tricia needed any assistance in mounting up, and Heyes was quick to take hold of Randa's very attractive ankle and give her a leg up and into the saddle. She settled in, looking quite comfortable and gave the little bay pacer a pat on the neck.

“He seems a very sweet boy,” she said.

“Yeah,” Jed agreed as he swung a leg over Gov's back. “He'll take care of ya'.”

Heyes checked Randa's stirrup length, double checked the girth and then, once satisfied that all was well there, he checked Karma's girth and then mounted up himself. The group was ready to head out.  
Jed turned Gov's head away from the barns and started them off in the direction of the back country. Everyone fell in line and amongst much laughing and teasing between the friends, they got underway.  
Up on the front porch Belle and Jesse were just settling into the chairs with some tea and scones and smiled as they watched the group trot off.

“Listen to them,” Belle laughed. “You'd think they were still a group of school children.”

“Sounds nice though, doesn't it?” Jesse said and he picked up his wife's hand and kissed it.

Belle smiled affectionately over at him. “Yes it does,” she agreed. “It's good to hear him laughing.”

Half an hour later, after the horses had warmed up, Jed suggested they open them up and everyone was game for a stretch at a hand gallop. Even Monty, who preferred to pace got caught up in the infectious excitement and broke out of his usual stride in order to gallop along with everyone else.  
Miranda proved to be a better horsewoman than she'd let on and had no trouble at all keeping up with the group. Jed let the horses run on for a good couple of miles before bringing them all back down to an easy trot again and then everyone, all grinning and sparkling eyed, settled in to chat. Jed was leading them on to his and Beth's favourite picnic spot upon the parcel of land that was the newest addition to the Double J holdings. It still held a very special meaning to the betrothed couple and though they certainly weren't about to go into any details, they were looking forward to sharing that place with their friends.  
Not surprisingly, as the ride carried on the ladies gradually separated into their own group to discuss the feminine aspects of the upcoming wedding nuptials, while the men were quite content to set back and allow the ladies to ride on ahead a few yards.

“Are you getting nervous, Beth?” Miranda asked cheekily.

“I don't know!” Beth admitted. “I don't know if I'm nervous or just excited. It's been such a long time coming!”

“Yes, you and Jed have certainly been patient,” Tricia agreed. “I don't know if I could have waited. David and I were married within three months of meeting one another!”

“Three months!?” Beth was astounded. “You knew that soon?”

Tricia smiled. “I knew as soon as I bumped into him. It took David about a minute longer but I think it's safe to say that we both had the same idea right from the start.”

“Yes, I knew very quickly with William too,” Randa agreed. “It took him a while longer. I think he was just too accustomed to thinking of me as a child for him to consider anything more than that.”

“That sounds familiar!” Beth agreed with a laugh. “You can't imagine how long it took me to get Jed's attention.” Then she sobered a little bit. “But I suppose he had other things on his mind.”

“Yes,” Tricia agreed. “Speaking of which...what's your feeling on Hannibal, Randa? Do you think it's the real thing?”

“I don't know!” Randa admitted with a frustrated sigh. “I mean there's no doubt about the attraction, but is it the real thing? I don't know. I still miss William so much sometimes. I wonder if my interest in Hannibal isn't just out of loneliness—wanting to be with someone again. And maybe it's good that we take it slow; although Han can be very affectionate at times...” Knowing smiles from the other two ladies. “...I sense him holding back. I don't think he's sure yet either,” she smiled at her two friends. “So, we'll take it slow.”

Back in the second row, all three gentlemen had appreciative smiles on their faces as they watched the gentle swaying of the three sets of hindquarters moving in rhythm to their horses' gaits.

“My that Daisy sure has developed into a fine looking filly,” Heyes commented quietly and sent a sidelong look towards his cousin.

“Yeah she sure has,” Jed agreed, his twinkling eyes taking in the soft rounded curves.

“Have ya' taken her out for another ride?” Heyes queried.

“Nope,” Jed admitted. “I told ya' Heyes; we decided to wait.”

“Wise choice,” David commented. “Too much riding beforehand can sometimes lead to problems.”

The other two men nodded emphatic agreement.

“Yeah,” Heyes continued. “once you put your foot in the stirrup and throw your leg over, well...you're kinda committed. Sometimes the ride can get a bit bumpy.”

The other two men nodded emphatic agreement.

“Still,” Jed pondered. “that first ride can often be quite exciting.”

“Hmm,” Heyes nodded, contemplating the truth of that statement. 

“No doubt about that,” David agreed. “But I've found that over the years, if you take the time and care to develop a good sound relationship with your mount—well, there's nothing else quite as satisfying as that.”

Again, the other two men had to concede the probable truth to that statement. Then suddenly they were all three brought up short in their speculations when both Tricia and Randa pulled up and turned suspicious eyes back at them. Beth brought Daisy around as well though she hadn't really clued in as to what was going on.

“What are you three talking about back there?” Tricia asked them.

“Nothin',” said Jed.

“Just guy stuff,” said David.

“Just enjoying the view,” said Heyes, indicating the scenery around them.

The two older ladies exchanged sceptical looks.

“Uh huh,” Tricia commented. “There's plenty of room for all six of us to ride abreast. Why don't you come up and join us?”

All three men smiled, and pushing their horses to lengthen their strides they all joined up and became one group.

“I understand you've started to play poker again,” Randa commented to Heyes. “How was the game Friday night?”

“Oh, oh...yes. It was fine,” Heyes smiled. “I had a good time.”

“Did you win?” Randa continued.

“Oh some,” Heyes nodded. “I came out with a little more than I went in with. But ah, no the big winner of the evening was Frank Upton; he took home the biggest pot of the night.” 

“And how much was that?” asked David.

Heyes smiled over at him. “Five dollars.”

Jed laughed. “That must 'a been a real stressful night!”

Heyes nodded vigorously. “It was! Five dollars is a lot of money!”

“Yeah I suppose it is,” Jed agreed, but he was still laughing.

“Seriously though,” Miranda said through her chuckles. “what's the most money you've ever won—or lost for that matter, in a game?”

Heyes sobered a bit and sent a slightly enquiring look over to his partner. Jed shrugged his shoulders.

“Well,” Heyes considered the question. “I guess the most I ever won was $35,000.00”

“What!?” Randa was incredulous. “In one game!?”

David whistled. “Boy oh boy! I can see why you'd have an aversion to working for a living when you can make that at the poker table.” 

Heyes chuckled. “Yeah, but it's never a sure thing. I've said goodbye to $20,000.00 when I've been just as sure of the winning hand,” he admitted. “That's part of the thrill. I'm pretty good at playing the odds, but it's never over until it's over.”

“So do you think you'll ever play at that level again?” Tricia asked him.

Heyes sighed and looked a little sad. “I donno,” he said. “The little games here in town are fun, but to do it professionally again....I donno.” Then he sighed and a smile played about his lips. “But there's that game they put on every year in Denver. It's a closed game—invitation only and the buy in is $20,000.00,” he smiled over at his partner. “It sure would be nice.”

Jed smiled and nodded. “Yup,” he agreed, remembering how he used to sit by on those games, reading or just snoozing until the atmosphere in the room would change and he'd know that a big pot was on the line. It would get pretty exciting for him too, watching Heyes play the hand. “Who knows Heyes? You get yourself back into top form and you just might get that invite. It's not like you're still wanted or anything.”

“Yeah,” Heyes reflected. “we'll see.”

“I don't know about the rest of you,” David interjected. “but I'm hungry. Is this 'special spot' much further?”

“Nope!” Jed grinned. “Just over that rise there, you'll see an old willow tree and the creek right by it. That'll be the place!”

Everybody was pleased at that announcement and the three ladies kicked their horses into a gallop and headed off in the indicated direction. The three gentlemen accepted the challenge and went after them amongst whooping and hollering and a whole lot of laughter being had by all!  
Lunch was about as pleasant as any of them could have hoped for. Belle's beef pies were almost better cold than they were fresh out of the oven—well almost, and the lemonade and iced tea were the prefect accompaniment. It seemed as though all their worries were being washed away by the hot summer afternoon and the gentle breeze that kept the heat from being overwhelming.  
Jed was leaned up against the trunk of the tree with Beth nestled into his arms while the other two couples found equally comfortable resting places to cuddle in and carry on idle conversation. It had been a good day and Heyes was finding himself feeling more and more relaxed, not only in Miranda's company but with his whole situation in general. Things weren't ideal, that's for sure but they were pretty darn close and one couldn't really blame him for beginning to feel that life was on the upswing and that things were only going to get better.  
Then, as they were beginning to get the horses ready for the ride back to the ranch house, all that optimism shattered and came crashing down with the sound of one loud rifle report. Every horse in the herd spooked and danced to the side with heads and tails up and nostrils flaring! Both Heyes and Jed had their guns drawn instantly and looking in the direction from whence the shot had come until a stricken cry from Tricia brought them both around again.

“OH NO! BETH! BETH!”

Jed felt his blood run cold as his six shooter dropped from his numb fingers and then he was on the ground on his knees, desperately cradling his betrothed.

“Oh no no! Beth, darlin'! No!” Jed was close to tears, his voice strained and desperate. “David—help! Please...!”

Beth was laying on her back, her eyes wide and staring with shock and fear. Her mouth was gaping open as she struggled to breathe. Blood was pumping from the gash in her neck, soaking the front of her white blouse and gathering in pools on the ground. Everything had turned red. Jed had a desperate hold on her right hand while with his other he tried valiantly to staunch the flow of blood but the thick, sticky fluid just oozed through his fingers.  
David was instantly on the ground on Beth's other side. He grabbed the picnic cloth and began to pressure push it into the wound. Beth stared at him, desperately, silently pleading for help, her free hand grasping at David's shirt front, trying to hold on. She was so scared! So scared! What was happening!?

“Shhh alright Beth,” David tried to sooth her in a quiet, calm voice. “Try to relax. Alright. Try to slow down your breathing. Take deep breaths, deep breaths.”

But Beth was beyond reason; she was terrified. She was fighting to breath in short, rapid gasps but she was choking on her own blood and the harder she tried, the more terrified she became. Her heart rate increased and the faster it beat, the faster it pumped out her life's blood.

“Ohh, my God, David!” Kid was practically beside himself. “C'mon! Help her please! Do something! Oh no, this is all my fault—I shoulda known we were being followed—I always know when we're being followed! Why didn't I know?”

“Jed, I don't have time for this now!” David told him in a tight, terse voice. “You have to help me here! Talk to her, try to calm her down. We can worry about who's fault it is later! Alright? Can you do that?”

Jed looked at David, his eyes just as terrified as Beth's but David held him in an intense gaze until Jed finally took a deep breath and nodded.

“Yeah David. Yeah, alright.”

“Good!” then David looked back at the other two women. “Tricia, get my small medical kit out of my saddlebag. Quickly!”

“Yes David—I've already got it! Here!”

“Open it! Get me out a clamp and gauze—anything to try a stop this bleeding.”

Tricia ripped open the small bag and began to rummage around in it, then quickly pulling out a roll of gauze she pulled off handfuls of it and passed it over into David's blood covered hand. He snatched it all up and stuffed it into the wound.  
Beth was choking, sputtering up blood but at the same time beginning to weaken and to lose consciousness. David was getting desperate himself, grabbing the bag and rummaging through it, looking for a clamp or anything!

“Here David! Here!” Tricia pushed one of her hair pins into his hand. “Will this help?”

“Yeah—better than nothing! Dammit! Did I pack any of that rubber tubing? I bet you I didn't! God dammit!”

“I'll look!” Tricia told him and she scrambled to her feet and ran back to Rudy again. That gelding was standing stock still, but the whites of his eyes were showing and it took every bit of his will power to stand steady. Tricia rummaged through the bags but couldn't find anything. Randa joined her, trying to help, trying to be of some use but feeling so much out of her element.

“What are we looking for?” Miranda asked her cousin.

“Tubing! Rubber hose!” Tricia went down the list. “Anything that's long and hollow! Dammit! I don't see anything here!”

“What about the straws?” Randa asked.

“What?”

“The straws that Belle packed for the drinks!”

Tricia and Randa locked eyes for an instant and then Tricia was on the run towards the picnic debris. Everything had been strewn around the ground when David had grabbed the cloth, but both ladies were down on their hands and knees desperately searching for discarded straws.

“Here! Here!” Randa announced triumphantly as she held up three straws in her hands, then both ladies scrambled back over to the scene of the action. “Here David!” Randa shoved the straws into David's hand.

“OH! Good! Finally, something's going right!”

David grabbed one of the straws and quickly moved aside some of the gauze. Blood spurted out but he ignored it and quickly inserted one end of the straw into the wound, pushing it down into Beth's throat as far as he could without losing it. Beth had passed out but she was still choking and David had to work quickly. He requested more hair pins and instantly got a handful and these he used inside the wound to try and at least slow down the bleeding and then he wrapped more gauze around the straw to staunch the bleeding even more and to help keep the straw in place.  
Everyone held their breath and waited while David worked. Jed still desperately hung on to Beth's hand even though she was no longer aware of him. He was leaning over her, squeezing her hand and caressing her forehead, whispering endearments to her.

“C'mon sweetheart,” he murmured under his breath. “C'mon darlin'. Hang on. We're gonna get married in two weeks. You can't leave. Jeez—what would your papa say? He'll have my hide if anything happens to you, C'mon babe, don't leave me. Don't. Please don't.”

Then David stopped working and listened for a moment. Beth's breathing was still gurgled, but at least she wasn't choking anymore and air was getting in through the straw and past the injury. The hairpins, acting as clamps on the severed artery were makeshift at best, but they were helping. David gave a deep sigh and put a hand up to his face, rubbing his cheeks and not knowing or caring that he was smearing himself red.

“Okay, ahh...” David thought about their next move. “The Jordan's ranch house is closer than town so, Tricia could you ride back home and get my regular medical bag. Make sure there's quinine and needles and suturing thread and...”

“Yes David, I know.” Tricia assured him as she headed to her horse.

“And get word to the sheriff about what happened,” David called after her. “Don't waste time going to him yourself, just send someone and then get back to the Jordan's place. We'll meet you there.”

Tricia swung up aboard Spike and turned his head towards town. “Yes David!”

She was gone in a showering of turf and flying hooves and then David turned to Miranda. She was standing a short distance off, both her hands up to her mouth, feeling like she was going into shock.

“Randa!” David got her attention. “Do you think you can remember how to get back to the Jordan's house from here?” 

“Oh! Ah, yes I think so,” she said and then pointed back the way they had come. “That way, isn't it?”

“Yes that's right,” David agreed. “I want you to ride back there and let them know what has happened and tell them to get a buckboard out here as quickly as possible. Alright?”

“Yes!” Randa answered, relieved to be able to do something to help. “Yes of course!”

“If you get turned around, just give Monty his head,” David suggested. “He's a horse, he knows his way home.”

“Yes, alright!” Miranda called over her shoulder as she quickly mounted up on the slightly skittish Monty and turned his head towards home.

Okay Jed,” David looked to his assistant. “we need to cover her up with something. We need to keep her warm.”

“Oh yeah. Ahhmm,” Jed looked around, his eyes barely focusing, but then David saw the light spark in them and knew that his brain was working again. “How about the saddle blankets?”

“Yes, perfect. Go get them.”

Jed got to his feet and quickly gathered up Rudy and Gov and began to untack them. It only took a couple of minutes to pull the saddles off and then he grabbed the thick blankets and brought them over. He knelt down again and began to drape the blankets over Beth and tuck her in. David smiled at the care Jed was showing while he himself checked Beth's pulse rate and lifted an eyelid to check her pupils. He sighed and sat back down on his haunches.  
Jed sat down again as well, and picking up Beth's hand he brought it up to his lips and kissed it. Then he just sat, rocking slightly and gazing down at her, her small hand nestled in between both of his. 

“Hang in there Jed,” David told him quietly. “Everything that can be done, is being done.”

Jed just nodded. Then David frowned and quickly did a scan around the picnic site.

“Where's Hannibal?” he asked, suddenly realizing they were one man short.

Jed started and looked around, a sudden panic in his eyes. Sure enough; both Heyes and Karma were missing from the group.

“Aww jeez! God dammit Heyes!” Jed cursed him. “Don't tell me you've gone after the shooter!”

 

The rifle shot broke through the pleasant summer afternoon and Heyes felt a shivering of terrible deja vu sweep over him. He swung round, his Schofield instantly in his hand, but there was nothing to see, nothing to shoot at! Then the strangled cry from Tricia brought him and Kid around to face the group again and suddenly Heyes felt sick with fear.  
Jed ran forward, dropping his gun as he went and he knelt down beside his betrothed. He was terrified; Heyes could feel it even from this distance and he thought he was going to throw up with the rush of memories that came back at him. It was happening again! All the blood! People screaming, pleading with whoever would listen to them to make things alright!  
Oh no! Not again! Not again! First it was Jed, clutching at his shirt, asking forgiveness while his life's blood was spreading out in pools upon the ground. Then Lobo, choking from a punctured lung, pushing Heyes away and then dying in his arms, refusing to accept help, refusing to live life as a sickly cripple. Then the Doc, insisting that he would be alright even as the padding he held against the knife wound became saturated with blood and Heyes being forced to leave him like that—like that to die alone! Now Beth! Oh no, not Beth!  
Heyes could see the blood pumping from the bullet wound in her throat, he could see it soaking into her blouse, spreading over the ground. Jed clutching at her, pleading with the fates, pleading with David. Do something! Do something! C'mon David! Pull off another miracle; you can do it! You've done it before—do it again!  
David had moved in, trying to get Beth to calm down. Yeah, right! How was she supposed to calm down when she was choking to death on her own blood? Heyes could see the terror in her eyes. He could feel the panic in his cousin! David yelling at Jed, trying to get him to focus and actually succeeding. Then he was working, desperately trying to slow the bleeding; trying to help her.  
Heyes stood like a statue, his Schofield still in his hand, his whole body trembling with the shock and the memories all hitting him at once. Then anger rose up in him. His upper lip tightened, baring his teeth in an animalistic snarl. Why couldn't these people just leave them alone!? Why weren't they being allowed to finally just get on with their lives? Hadn't they paid enough for their past crimes!? And Beth! Beth hadn't done anything except be the daughter of a wealthy man and then fall in love with an outlaw! Was this the price you had to pay for being rich and happy—is that too much to ask for in this world!? Apparently so!  
Heyes felt his indignant anger take hold even more but with it now came a cold clarity of mind. His breathing calmed down as he watched the desperate scene unfold before him and he knew what he had to do. He re-holstered his gun and turned to snatch up Karma's reins. She snorted and tensed up, the whites of her eyes showing wildly as she sensed the danger in the air and the anger in her human.   
Heyes brought her to task and she settled—sort of. He quickly tightened the girth and then swung aboard and with barely a touch to her arched neck, she pivoted around and dug deep. They were on a mission and she knew it! Her hind hooves dug into the grass and her powerful hindquarters bunched up and pushed off. Within five strides she had reached her top speed and they were flying across the meadow—flying towards the spot where the shot had come from.  
Within minutes they'd reached higher ground and were into the rocks where the shooter would have had easy cover and access to the group of picnickers. Heyes galloped his mare up the hard trail and then had swung off her before she'd even come to a halt. He knelt down, scrutinizing the area but saw nothing at first. He moved ahead, searching the ground as he went, and then he dived down to the ground again as something shiny caught his eye. He picked it up and sure enough it was a spent bullet cartridge!   
He looked around some more and found indents in the dirt where the shooter had sat, waiting for the perfect shot to become available. Then, there was a boot mark and a scuffing in the dirt; the man was on the move. Heyes started to run down the small incline, Karma trotting along unbidden behind him. He stopped again, by some bushes. A pile of horse dung, and prints made from iron shoes—this was where the horse had been tethered, and for some time too, apparently. Karma stopped to sniff the dung but whatever information she got from it, she kept to herself.  
Heyes moved on another few feet, saw where the horse had turned and taken off at a gallop. He scanned the horizon, getting a sense of the land and the direction his quarry had gone in and then he swung aboard his mare again and they took off in pursuit.  
He knew the shooter had a good head start, but he also knew he was probably riding the better horse. He pushed Karma hard, asking her for every ounce of speed that she could give him and she gave it willingly. She didn't know what was going on, but she knew that something bad had happened and that her beloved human was depending on her now, and she was determined to not let him down. She stretched out and dug in, giving everything she could and would keep on giving it until she dropped.  
Heyes' eyes watered with the wind but he ignored it and continued to scan the trail ahead of them and watching the horizon for tell tale dust clouds. He rarely slowed down, galloping over rough terrain, up and down hills, over rocks and through gulley's, risking his own neck and his horse's legs in this wild chase to catch up with this ghost that was haunting them all.   
He stopped only to double check the trail and make sure he was still on the right track. Even at that he cursed the time that it wasted, knowing that his quarry would not be stopping, knowing that it would only lengthen the lead that he already had.  
He pushed Karma even harder then, determined to close the gape between himself and the man he pursued. Their only chance being that the shooter didn't realize that he was being chased down and therefore was not leaving the scene at full speed ahead. They just might catch him yet!  
An hour into the chase and Karma was lathered up and blowing hard. Heyes pulled up and dismounted again, scanning the ground in front of him, looking for sign. He cursed under his breath. The ground was hard here and tracks were difficult to pick up. He ran forward, looking, searching for any indication that a horse had been this way. Then he squatted down, his finger tracing the partial outline of a hoof print. Yes! He was aboard again and they were off and running!  
They came down an incline, full speed ahead and Karma lengthened her stride as best she could in order to cover the open ground ahead of them. But her breathing was becoming laboured and her legs were losing their powerful thrusts. She dug deep and pushed herself—she had to keep going, her human was depending on her, she had to keep going!  
There was a loud report ahead and to the right of them. Heyes heard the shot and in the same instant felt the shock wave go through his mare's body. Karma grunted and throwing her head up, her stride broke and her legs crumbled beneath her. She went down, hitting the ground hard with her chest, she skidded, scraping the skin and meat off her shoulders as the ground grabbed her and flipped her over in a shuddering somersault.  
Heyes saw the ground coming at him as he flew over his mare's head. He had a fleeting image of dark red mane and the thought, flashing through his mind that all he'd succeeded in doing was killing his horse! Then his right shoulder hit hard and pain shot through his arm and neck and the breath was knocked from his lungs as his head hit the ground and his brain exploded in fireworks of light. He did a somersault himself then, rolled twice and ended up laying face down in the dirt a few yards ahead of where his mare had gone down. Neither of them moved.

David and Jed sat by Beth, waiting for what seemed an eternity for anybody to show up. Jed continued to hold Beth's hand, bringing it up to his mouth to kiss and caress and encourage her to hang on. David kept on monitoring her vital signs, hoping he had stopped the bleeding quickly enough and that his makeshift tracheotomy would hold until they could get her moved to a more stable environment. Hoping that she could even survive a move!   
It was then they heard it—way off in the distance, too far to judge how far, or what direction but still unmistakable. A single rifle shot and then silence again.

“Oh God Heyes,” Jed whispered in dread as he looked off in the direction he thought the sound had come from. “Don't you dare die on me Heyes! Not now! I need you—you owe me that much!”

David just sighed. What a day this was turning into. He too hoped and prayed that shot hadn't signalled the end of their friend—not after they had all come so far.

Then another sound caught their ears and both men looked towards the direction of town and saw a single horse and rider galloping towards them.

“That's not Tricia is it?” asked David. “I told her to meet us at the Jordan's!”

“No, it doesn't look like a woman,” Jed observed. “No; it's a man—see?”

“Oh yeah. Who is that?” David basically asked himself as he stood up for a closer look.

The horseman galloped towards them and then pulled his horse down to a more sedate gait as he approached the two men. Jed saw the sunlight glint off the tin star and for once didn't feel a dread settle over him because of it.  
David stepped forward to take the horse's head as the lawman stepped down.

“Joe!” David greeted the young deputy. “I'm surprised you were able to find us.”

“Your wife gave a good description of where you fellas were at,” Joe informed the doctor. “She's on her way to the Jordan's, but Sheriff Jacobs sent me out here to see what I could find out.” He looked down at Beth and he paled with fear. “Oh God! She wasn't exaggerating! Is she gonna make it Doc?”

“I'm certainly giving it my best shot,” David answered wearily. “We're still waiting on the buckboard to get here. Once we get her back to the ranch I can do a proper job of treating her. They shouldn't be too much longer.”

“Yeah,” Joe nodded and then forced his mind back to his job. “What happened here?”

“Somebody shot her!” Jed answered him irritably. 

“Yes, Jed. I can tell that,” Joe answered him quietly, realizing the man was under a lot of stress. “Any idea who did it, or where the shot came from?”

“I think it should be obvious that it's the same man who pushed her in front of the horses, don't you!?”

Joe sighed. The ex-outlaw was showing his temper again. “It might not be Jed, it could be totally unrelated. But,” he held up a hand to stop the angry protest. “it is beginning to look like someone is trying to deliberately harm Miss Jordan. The question is; who? And why?” 

“Well, whoever it was, we think took the shot from over there,” David pointed to the outcrop of rocks off in the distance. “Hannibal went after him about an hour ago and just before you showed up, we heard another rifle shot, quite a ways off. I think it came from that direction, but it was hard to tell.”

Joe scanned the horizon and then nodded. “Yeah okay Doc, thanks,” he said. “I'll take a ride over that way and see what I can find out. In the meantime, looks like the buckboard is coming. Do you need a hand?”

“I don't think so Joe,” David assured him. “You go and see what you can find. And please be careful. I don't need any more patients today.”

Joe smiled. “Yeah I will Doc. I'll see ya' later.”

Then with one more quick look down at Beth and Jed, the deputy mounted his horse and sent it at a hand gallop in the same direction that Heyes had taken.  
Ten minutes later, Jesse and Sam pulled the buckboard to a halt beside the small group and Jesse was off the vehicle and down beside his daughter in less time than it takes to tell about it.

“Oh, dear Lord! Beth,” Jesse took her other hand and gently cupped her face. He looked at her and trembled, fighting tears, fighting his fear. “What happened? Miranda just said she had been shot. What happened!?”

“Yes Jesse. I'm sorry,” David told the anguished father. “It was so sudden, Just—shot her from ambush. The bullet hit her throat and just carried on through—who knows where it ended up. But I managed to stop the bleeding and keep her air passage open, but it's just a makeshift job. I'll do a better job of it once we get her back to your place.”

“Yeah. Yeah alright,” Jesse agreed, trying to stay in control. “We brought lots of pillows and blankets—if we can just get her home again....”

“Yes,” David agreed quietly. “Let's gently move her into the buckboard and get her home.”

Sam stayed up on the driver's seat in order to hold the team steady while the other three men got Beth settled into the back. Jed was torn. He'd never felt such anguish in his life. He was scared to death that Beth was going to die on him and he just couldn't bring himself to leave her side. But he knew that Heyes could be in trouble and the pull to go in search of him was tearing him apart. He sat in the bed of the buckboard, holding Beth's hand but at the same time was sending anguished looks off in the distance, off in the direction his partner would have gone in.  
Jesse was busy tucking blankets in and around his daughter, making sure that she was going to be well protected from the jostling and bouncing that the trip back was going to cause her. He never felt so helpless in his life. David touched Jed's arm, getting his attention just for a moment.

“Don't even think about going after Hannibal,” David told him, having seen the conflict he was going through. “Beth is your priority now; you have to stay with her and to help Jesse. Joe will find Hannibal. Alright?”

Jed looked David in the eye, preparing to argue the point, but David locked him down and silently challenged him. Then Jed relented, actually relieved that someone else had made that decision for him and forced him to focus on what he had to do rather than what he wanted to do. The problem was; he wanted to do both! But since that was impossible, he allowed the doctor to point him in the appropriate direction. And David was right too; Joe would find Heyes and help him too, if he needed it.

 

Joe rode on. He had mimicked Heyes' own pattern by stopping at the shooter's hiding place, seeing the tracks leading away and then following along the same route. He moved slower than Heyes had done though, being far more cautious and aware of the dangers than the ex-convict had been. Not that Heyes wouldn't normally have been aware of these things, but he had gone off half-cocked—angry; wanting revenge. Joe wasn't caught up in a personal vendetta and besides that, by now he was a seasoned lawman and he knew better. He had no intentions of being caught flat-footed and out in the open. He took his time.  
The distance that it had taken Heyes an hour to cover, Joe did in 90 minutes but at least he was still on the move. He pulled his horse up on the top of the ridge and surveyed the flat land before him, squinting against the setting sun. He could see something out there—forms on the ground that weren't moving, but shouldn't be there all the same. He twisted in his saddle and rummaged around in one of his bags, finally pulling out the spy glass to get a closer look at what it was.  
He held the glass up to his eye and then cursed under his breath. Dammit! He used the glass to scan the area, checking the surrounding hills for any movement, or refection to indicate someone waiting in ambush. He saw nothing out of place but that didn't necessarily mean there was no one there. Still, he reasoned; it wouldn't make sense for the shooter to hang around. He'd be wanting to get away from the area as quickly as possible so Joe decided to take the chance.  
He pulled his rifle out of its sheath and nudged his horse into a quick walk town the hill, then pushed him into a lope, straight towards the two objects laid out on the ground a few hundred yards ahead of him. He slowed to a trot again as he got closer. He got to the horse first and though the animal was conscious and up, she was resting on her chest with her legs folded under her. Her eyes were closed and her nose was pushed into the ground, supporting her head. She did not look well. Joe gave her a quick glance but continued on to the prone man as his first priority.  
Heyes was still out cold. Joe dismounted and approached him cautiously, looking around for any sign of an ambush. It wasn't unheard of for a desperate man to use an injured antagonist as bait to draw more of the enemy out into the open. Still, nothing happened and Joe relaxed to some degree.  
He knelt down beside the still form and carefully rolled him over onto his back. There was a large bump and an obvious swelling and bruising making itself apparent on the man's forehead along with angry red scratches down the right side of his face where he had skidded into the ground. His right collar bone was pushing up against the shirt in an awkward manner, obviously broken. Joe reached down and gently slapped Heyes' face hoping to get a reaction from him. He wasn't disappointed. 

“Heyes!' he called out to the man. “C'mon Heyes—wake up!”

Heyes' eyelids started to flicker and then he moaned as the pain in his head grew with his consciousness. He started to move and then groaned again as the pain in his neck and shoulder also made itself known. Oh brother! Why couldn't they just leave him alone? At least when he was unconscious he wasn't feeling any pain. Ohhh, groan.

“C'mon Heyes wake up,” Joe repeated. “We gotta get you back to the ranch.”

Heyes eyes flickered open and he gazed up at the deputy, trying to bring him into focus. Then he saw the badge pinned to the man's vest and had a moment of pure panic. He tried to push himself away from the lawman and then instantly regretted the movement when his head exploded with pain and he rolled over and vomited.

“Yeah well,” Joe surmised. “that's what ya' get for over reacting.”

Heyes settled onto his back again and lay there with his eyes closed.

“Deputy Morin?” he asked in a whisper.

“Yeah.”

“What happened?”

“You tell me.”

Heyes lay quiet for a moment, keeping his eyes closed and trying to get his brain to focus. Then suddenly his eyes opened for a second time and alarm was apparent in them. He tried to sit up but groaned again and lay back down, trying to keep his stomach from rolling over on him.

“Karma,” he whispered. “My horse....is she dead?”

Joe glanced back at the miserable looking horse. “No, she's not dead,” he informed him. “Probably wishes she was though.”

Heyes let loose a sigh of relief. “Oh...thank goodness. I thought for sure....Beth! How's Beth?”

“Still alive the last time I saw them,” Joe continued. “Jesse was just arriving with the buckboard when I left them to come in search of you. They should be back at the house by this time.”

“Oh...good.”

“Do you think you can ride Heyes?” Joe asked him. “It's gonna be dark here real soon and I'd like to get us back to the house before too much longer.”

“Yeah I'll try,” Heyes offered rather lamely. “Just help me onto my horse.”

“No, you're not gonna be riding your horse. You'll double with me,” Joe informed him. “Your mare is no better off than you are right now.”

“Karma....”

Joe took Heyes' arm and helped him to sit up. He sat there for a moment, swaying as his head spun but he didn't throw up again. Joe took his bandana and then tying his and Heyes' together he made a make shift sling and got Heyes' right arm supported in it until the Doc could make a better job. Heyes just sat quietly and let all this take place.   
When he could open his eyes he looked over to his mare and saw the pain she was so obviously in.

“Help me to stand up,” Heyes told the deputy. “Get me over to her.”

Joe didn't like to take the time for this, but he knew he'd better just do it or they weren't going to be going anywhere without a fight. He stepped over Heyes and then took his left arm and helped to pull him to his feet. Heyes stood there for a moment, swaying and leaning against the younger man.

“Ya' alright?” Joe asked him.

“Yeah, gettin' there.”

Then Heyes took a step and with Joe helping him he made his way over to his horse. Karma barely acknowledged him. She continued to sit, her ears flopping to the side, her eyes closed and her nose resting on the ground. She was breathing in slow shallow gasps—her head was pounding. Heyes knelt down beside her and caressed her face. He felt the stickiness of blood.

“Karma,” he whispered to her and rubbing her forehead, he moved his hand up between her ears and she reacted instantly, jerking her head away. “Whoa, easy girl.”

Joe stepped in and took a closer look. “She's got a bullet crease right there, along the top of her forehead,” he told Heyes. “She was lucky—that could easily have killed her.”

Heyes held her face in a hug, being careful to stay away from the injury. “That's alright sweetheart,” he murmured to her. “You gave your best, that's for sure. But we gotta get you on your feet. We gotta get you home.”

Heyes stood up somewhat shakily and Joe held onto his arm to steady him. He took hold of Karma's reins with his good hand and encouraged her to get up. She barely acknowledged him and made no effort to move.

“C'mon girl,” Heyes pleaded with her. “Get on your feet—we gotta get ya' home.”

“Heyes, we gotta get you home too,” Joe reminded him. “It's already going to be dark before we get there, we have to leave.”

“We can't leave Karma here,” Heyes protested. “She'll die if she's left out here like this. Predators will get her.”

“I can't help that right now,” Joe persisted. “You need medical care—the sooner the better. We have to go.”

“But...I can't leave her....”

Joe started to assist Heyes over towards his own patient gelding. Heyes didn't have the strength to physically protest, but verbally he kept up a running monologue.

“No, we can't leave her like this. We can wait until she's feeling better and on her feet. She' ll die out here if we leave her alone......”

“If she's smart, she'll get on her feet and follow us,” Joe reasoned. “but we're not waiting.”

“Yeah, but....”

Joe had manoeuvred his horse over to a rock and then got Heyes up onto it. Heyes continued to protest while he leaned against the horse's saddle and allowed Joe to place his foot in the stirrup. Once he was half ways settled, Joe gave him a heave and got him up enough to swing his right leg over and get him astride—Heyes protesting the whole way.  
Joe then got himself mounted up behind Heyes and got the reins organized. Heyes leaned forward against the horse's mane still mumbling in protest but being totally incapable of doing anything about it. Joe nudged his horse forward and they started the slow walking progress towards the ranch house. 

Heyes glanced back to his mare and then he summoned what little strength he had and called out to her. “Karma! C'mon girl—you can do it! C'mon!”

Karma's head jerked slightly and her eyes opened to slits. Her head was pounding so badly, but through the haze of pain she saw her human riding away. Riding away on ANOTHER HORSE! No no no, that wasn't going to wash! Karma took a deep breath and despite the throbbing pain, she finally stretched out her front legs and with a heave from her hindquarters, she got herself to her feet. She stood there swaying for a moment, head down almost to the ground. She braced herself, planting her legs firmly to her feet and made sure that her feet were staying beneath her.

“C'mon Karma!” Heyes called again. “That's a girl! C'mon. You can do it.”

Karma took a tentative step, almost losing her balance and falling again, but she caught herself and stayed on her feet, despite the world spinning around her. If she had been physically capable of throwing up, she would have done so at this point, but being a horse she didn't have that option. So she suffered and the pain attacked her head and her guts but through it all she was acutely aware of her human riding away from her and she wasn't prepared to take that lying down.  
She took another step, and another, and she followed along in their wake. Her head down, dragging the reins, her ears flopping to the side, her lips drooping and her eyes closed to slits, she put one foot in front of the other and the hind ones followed suit. And it was in this manner, four hours later and in the black of night, that this small procession made it's way back to the Jordan ranch house with Heyes slumped unconscious and Karma barely aware of who she was.

 

The buckboard arrived back at the house just as evening was closing down around them. Belle was in a state of nerves, but she still had hot water on the stove and the bed in the downstairs room all ready for her daughter to be settled into. Tricia was doing her best to keep J.J. entertained while Miranda made tea and helped Belle to do whatever she needed to do to keep busy.  
Finally, with waves of relief and anxiety both, the ladies heard the dogs barking and knew that the small group had finally arrived. The porch lamp had been left burning to light their way and the team pulled up right to the front steps while the ladies all came outside with hands to their mouths and hearts in their throats.

“Oh my God Jesse!” Belle whispered beseechingly. “Is she alright Jesse? Please tell me she's alright!”

Jesse jumped down from the back of the wagon while David and Jed slowly began to ease Beth out from the bed.

“She's still alive,” Jesse assured his wife. “I don't know yet if she's alright.”

“Oh my dear Lord!” Belle was beside herself and the two other women put their arms around her in feminine support.

“Where can we lay her down?” David asked. “I need to do a better job of cleaning up this wound.”

“I've prepared the room under the stairs,” Belle told him through her fear. “You can put her in there.”

David nodded and then he and Jed and Jesse carried Beth up the steps and into the house. Belle gasped in fear when she saw her daughter—she looked so pale in the lamp light and there was no mistaking the blood that had soaked into her blouse. Belle was close to tears, but she knew she had to hold herself together if she was to be of any use and she quickly gathered up her skirts and followed the men into the small bedroom. Sam took the harness and saddle horses back to the barn.  
David and Jed, both of them covered in blood themselves, gently laid Beth down on the bed and then Tricia was there with David's complete medical bag and all the tools he would need to get the wound treated properly. Belle came forward and took her daughter's hand in both of hers.

“She looks so pale,” Belle whispered. “David, is she going to be alright?”

“I'll do the best I can Belle,” David assured her. “The fact that we've got her this far says a lot for her chances.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Momma, what's matter with Beth?” J.J. asked from the door of the room.

Belle looked back to her son and quickly coming over to him, she leaned down and took him into her arms. He continued to look over at the bed, his eyes full of worry. “What's wrong with her?”

“She's had an accident Jay,” his mother told him. “But Dr. David is going to do everything he can to help her.”

“Is she going to be alright?” he asked, not really putting too much confidence in Dr. David.

“We're certainly going to try,” Belle assured him, giving him another hug.

“Belle,” David said pointedly. “I need you to get me some of that hot water, and lots of towels, okay?”

“Yes. Yes of course.”

Belle went off to tend to that, taking her son with her. J.J. went with her, but his eyes continued to stare back at his sister until she was out of his line of vision. He wasn't liking this situation at all.

David turned to his wife. “We need to get these soiled clothes off of her, get her cleaned up.”

Tricia sent him a rather exasperated look since she had assisted him in a number of emergencies and knew exactly what was required of her. In fact she already had Beth's boots pulled off and was working on the buttons of her riding habit. Jed was also trying to help when David put a hand on his arm to stop him.

“Jed, I know you want to help,” he commiserated. “but I think it best if the ladies assist me with this, alright?”

“But....” he looked stricken, he wanted to stay with her. 

“Jed please,” David insisted. “You've done so much already, but now it's best you and Jesse wait out in the living room. Why don't you put on some coffee for everyone?”

“C'mon Jed,” Jesse encouraged him. “Let's let David work. It shouldn't take too long.”

“No not long,” David agreed. “Please, just go out and try to relax.”

“Yeah okay,” Jed gave Beth's hand one more squeeze and then allowed Jesse to lead him out the door just as Belle was coming in with the required supplies. Then the door closed on the two men and they were left standing out in the living room with J.J. hitting them with beseeching eyes.

Jesse motioned the little boy over to sit with them at the table. 

“C'mon Jed go sit down,” Jesse told him. He was just as anxious as the Kid, but he was older and a father of three so he was more adapt at dealing with these types of traumas. 

Jed had never been able to get used to these things. Heyes getting injured had always sent him into a tailspin. If he could he would stay by his partner's side the whole time, until he was out of danger. If he couldn't for whatever reason then he had to keep himself busy. He had to be doing something. And now here he was stuck—just sitting. And waiting—while others made the choices. He sat down with a 'humph' and ran his hands through his curls.

“I'll go put some coffee on,” said Jesse as he gave the younger man a pat on the shoulder. “I don't know about you but I could use some. I'm sure when Hannibal and Joe get here, they'll be needing something hot as well.”

Jed instantly straightened up. “Heyes!” he stated. “I should go look for him. What if he's hurt?”

“Jed, don't be silly,” Jesse reprimanded him. “It's dark out there. I'm sure Joe will find him.”

“But what if Joe misses him in the dark?”

“What if you miss him in the dark?” Jesse pointed out. “C'mon. I know it's hard to just sit and wait, but sometimes there's no other choice. If there's no sign of him by morning then we can both go and look for him, alright?”

Jed ran a hand over his forehead and through his hair—again. He gave a deep sigh. “Yeah. Yeah, you're right. Of course.”

And so they waited. Sam came in from the barn and joined them for coffee. Jesse told him he could go home, but he refused, wanting to wait it out just in case he might be needed to run errands or anything else for that matter. Maribelle knew that if he was delayed passed dark that he would often stay the night at the ranch, it was safer than trying to ride home and she had his mother there with her so she wasn't alone with the children.  
It seemed an eternity, but in reality it was only two hours before the bedroom door opened and David with the three ladies came back out. David looked exhausted, but relieved and Belle was quick to get into her husband's arms. Tricia and Miranda both sat down wearily at the table, but they both looked relaxed and pleased themselves.

“She's alright?” Jed still felt the need to ask.

“Yes,” David nodded. “She'll need a lot of rest and it will be a while before she gets her voice back. But yes, I think she's going to be alright.”

“Oh thank goodness!” Jed rubbed his eyes. “Thank you David! Thank goodness you were with us! Now if Heyes would just hurry up and get back, maybe I could relax.”

“Where is Joshua?” Belle asked from her comfort zone within Jesse's embrace.

“He went after the shooter,” Jed informed her. “and then Deputy Morin went after him. If Joe found him alright, they'd be back by now!”

“There's nothing we can do about it tonight,” Jesse reiterated. “Why don't we all just try to get some sleep.”

This suggestion was met with sceptical looks all around and nobody made any moves towards getting settled in for the night. Jed for one had no intentions of going to bed until his partner showed up and if that meant that he was going to be tired if they had to go look for him the following morning, then so be it. More coffee was put on the stove and Belle heated up left over meat pie and everyone prepared for a long night.  
J.J. did his best to stay awake with the grown-ups, but now that the crisis involving his sister was on hold, his eyes began to droop and very soon he was fast asleep in his father's arms. Jesse decided to put the little man to bed in the master bedroom upstairs, that way he would be in a familiar bed if he should wake up. But he should also far enough away from voices and activities that he could sleep through the rest of the night.  
When Jesse returned to the table, the conversation was in the process of covering the gauntlet from the price they got for the beef last spring, to how everyone was looking forward to getting Ned up to stud and what calibre of foals he'd put on the ground. Everybody was starting to ware out and most of them were beginning to consider that some shut-eye might not be such a bad idea when they all jumped at the sound of the dogs starting to bark again. Jed was out of his chair instantly, making a bee line for the front door. Everyone else was close on his heels. At first they couldn't see anything beyond the light from the lantern and all they could hear was the dogs barking.  
Then Ellie trotted into sight, still barking but with her tail wagging and a look of expectation on her face. The two little dogs came into view next, all excited at being able to join in on the welcome and to announce the new arrivals. Jed came down off the steps and peered out into the darkness and then he heard the horse which was instantly followed by being able to see the horse. Then he saw his cousin and with a curse under his breath he ran forward, nearly spooking the tired animal.

“Heyes!” Jed reached them and grabbed hold of his cousin's arm. “Ah no! Was he shot!?”

“No,” Joe assured him. “but his horse was and he took a nasty fall. I expect he has a concussion and I know he has a broken collar bone.”

David was there then too, looking exhausted but still on the job. “Easy Jed,” he cautioned his friend. “Careful with him.”

Joe slowly slid down off the horse and then all three men carefully eased Heyes out of the saddle. He groaned quietly, but that was all while he was gently carried into the house.  
Sam stood on the porch watching the procession when Joe beckoned him over and indicated to the horse standing some distance off, just barely in the lamplight. Karma was standing with her head down and her legs splayed. She was swaying and when she tried to take a step towards the men she staggered and very nearly went down.

“Oh my goodness!” Sam exclaimed. “Let me get a lamp and we'll get her over to the barn.”

He quickly got the lantern from the porch and then approached the mare.

“My poor girl!” Sam commiserated. “C'mon, just a little further back to your stall and then I'll get you fixed up. You'll be feeling better soon. C'mon. That's a girl.”

Karma staggered again, but she gave it one final effort, knowing that her cozy stall was just a moment away—if she could just get there. She struggled, but she did it, with Sam leading the way and encouraging her with every step. Joe smiled and shook his head as he led his own horse along behind them. He knew he was going to be staying the night himself even if it meant sleeping in the barn.

Inside the second bedroom under the stairs, Jed was assisting David in getting Heyes settled onto the bed. The doctor did a quick examination, checking his pupils and then the darkening bruise on his forehead while Jed got his partner undressed and settled. He had some bruising on his torso and his arms along with some painful looking gravel rash on the palms of his hands and all down the right side of his face, but other than that the only injuries were the ones already being addressed.

“He should be alright,” David sighed wearily. “A concussion for sure, so we're going to have to keep an eye on him. But no broken ribs or anything else. He'll be alright Jed.”

Jed nodded and took a deep breath of relief. “Thank goodness. This is all I need, for both of them to be.....”

“I know,” David sympathized. “but they're good. Both of them. Now, help me get this collar bone set and make sure all the dirt and gravel is out of those scraps and then we can all get some rest.”

“Yeah, okay.” 

They were just finishing up and getting Heyes tucked in when there came a quiet tapping at the door.

“Yes?” David responded.

The door opened quietly and Randa poked her head in.

“Is he alright?” she asked. “May I come in?”

“Yes, yes by all means,” David told her. “He's going to be alright. A little bruised and battered, but he'll be alright.”

“Oh, thank goodness!” she breathed as she came over to the bed and sat down on it. She reached over and took Hannibal's left hand in hers and held it close. Then she smiled at the two men, feeling a little silly. “I'm sorry,” she said. “I probably shouldn't be taking such liberties yet.”

“That's alright,” said David. “I doubt Hannibal would mind you holding his hand.”

Jed grinned. Heyes always did find a way to get his fair share of the feminine attention.

“I didn't expect to be so worried about him,” Randa admitted. “Good heavens, it's not like we're courting or anything.”

“Better get used to it,” Jed cautioned her. “I've spent most of my life worrying about Heyes. I suppose it just comes with the territory.”

“Well Jed, I don't know about you, but I could do with some more coffee,” David announced. “And if Belle has any of that pie left...that woman is just too good a cook.”

“Yeah!” Jed agreed. “I could probably eat a little more myself now that Heyes is home safe.”

The two men quietly stood up and left the room leaving Miranda sitting on the edge of the bed, holding the hand of her new friend.

 

The next morning, Heyes woke up with a groan, his head splitting. He moaned and tried to open his eyes but the light coming in through the window was making that almost impossible so he just lay there and felt sorry for himself. Lil' Mouse was curled up at the foot of his bed and started to purr when she felt him stirring. He could feel her stretch and knew that she was yawning, but when he didn't make any further move to get up she settled and contentedly went back to sleep.  
A few more moments passed and he was beginning to wonder if he should actually try to get up when there came a light knocking on the door.

“Yes?” he croaked and then winched with the pain even that cause his head.

Miranda stepped into the room and smiled at him. She held a cup in her hand and came quietly over to his bed. He tried to smile at her but had very little success.

“David told me to give you this as soon as you woke up,” she said. “I don't know how Belle knew you were awake, but apparently she did.”

Heyes nodded and groaned, then opened his eyes just wide enough to look at the cup. “What is it?” he murmured.

“I believe it's some kind of painkiller,” Randa informed him. “David said to make sure you drink it all and then we were to just let you sleep.”

“Ohh, good.”

“Here,” Randa helped him to sit up just a little bit and then put the cup to his lips. He took a drink and then snorted at the bitterness of it and that made his head hurt even more. “C'mon,” Randa encouraged him. “Drink it down and then we'll leave you alone.” She pressed the cup to his lips again and he took it all in. He wanted the pain to go away and this would help that to happen, so....

He drained the cup, gave a sigh and lay back down again. “How's Karma?” he asked in a whisper.

“Sam's taking good care of her,” Randa assured him. “It seems he really has learned a thing or two from Deke. Karma's resting in her stall with Buck standing by for company.”

“Oh....good....”

“Uh huh,” Miranda sat for a few moments and held his hand until he fell back to sleep again. Then she smiled and leaning forward gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. Then she made sure he was snugly tucked in, gave the cat a scratch on the ear and quietly left the room.

Out in the living area, Sheriff Jacobs was sitting at the table sharing a pot of coffee with Jesse and Jed and getting a detailed report from them about what had happened the day before.

“And you never saw anything?” he reiterated. “Never got a look at the shooter?”

“No,” Jed told him for the umpteenth time. “We didn't see anybody.”

“What about Mr. Heyes?” Jacobs asked. “He went after him, did he see anything?”

“I don't know Sheriff. You're gonna havta ask him.”

Jacobs looked up as Miranda came out of the bedroom. “Is he awake, ma'am?”

“No,” Randa answered. “And even when he was I doubt he would have been up to answering any questions. David said to give him a couple of days.”

Jacobs sighed. “Yeah I know,” he admitted. “but by that time the suspect is going to be long gone.”

“I donno about that Carl,” Jesse commented. “We thought he was long gone after the July incident. Obviously he stuck around—or came back.”

“I suppose we can't be calling that an accident anymore can we?” Jacobs stated. “It looks like we've got ourselves a real problem here.”

Silence settled over the table, nobody really wanting to accept the apparent truth of that statement. Belle came out of the first bedroom then, looking tired and worn but when Jesse sent her a questioning glance she smiled at him to put him at his ease. Beth was still unconscious, mainly due to David's medications, and was sleeping comfortably.  
Both Belle and Randa came over to the table and sat down. Jesse poured them each a coffee and then replenished everyone else's cups as well before sitting back down himself. J.J. ate his oatmeal, his large eyes travelling around to the various people sitting at the table—he had no intentions of missing out on anything.

“Well Jesse,” Jacobs finally spoke up, breaking the silence. “I know you've been thinking about it and now I have to ask you; do you know of anyone who might have any kind of a grudge against you? It could be anything, even something that would appear minor to you and me. Or anyone who you're not sure about, who might be capable of going to this extreme in order to get even for something.”

Jesse sighed and shook his head. “I don't know Carl,” he said. “I've always tried to treat people fairly, you know that. I just can't think of anyone I know of who would be willing to do such a thing.”

“Kenny said much the same thing when we were over visiting him,” Jed commented. “He didn't think for a minute that the incident in July was just an accident. He has offered to help with information if we manage to get anything to go on.”

“That's real good of him,” Jesse nodded. “I just wish I had something to give him, but....” Jesse shook his head; he just wasn't coming up with anything.

“Yeah,” Jacobs nodded. “Well, just keep it in mind. If anything comes to ya', let me know alright?”

“Of course.”

“And as soon as Mr. Heyes is able to talk, I'll need to question him.”

“We'll let you know when he's able, Carl.”

“Alright,” Jacobs took one last gulp of coffee and then got to his feet. “I best be getting back to town, you folks take care.”

Jesse stood up to see him out. “Okay Carl. We'll talk soon.”

When Jesse returned to the table everyone was in a solemn mood.

“I can't believe this is happening,” Belle admitted. “Perhaps when Beth is feeling up to it we should send her to Denver to stay with Bridget and Steven for a while.”

“Whoever this is would probably just follow her there,” Jesse pointed out. “At least here we can keep an eye on her, make sure there's always somebody with her.”

“There were five of us with her yesterday,” Jed pointed out. “it didn't stop him.” Silence again. Jed looked over to Belle and Jesse, sorrow and regret plain upon his face. “I guess we better postpone the wedding huh—at least until we get this sorted out.”

“Oh dear,” Belle slumped. “Beth will be so disappointed. But yes; I suppose that would be for the best.”

 

A few days later, Heyes was up and about and the first thing he did was take a slow walk over to the barn to check up on his mare. He came into the coolness of the structure and breathed in the fresh summer scent of sweet hay and sunshine. He was feeling better, although he probably wouldn't be if it wasn't for the painkillers the good doctor still had him on. His right arm was in a sling and he still sported quite the goose egg on his forehead along with the angry red scrapes down his face and on his hands. But he had to admit that even though he still felt a little shaky, he was definitely on the mend.  
He walked in through the open door of the barn and was instantly met with a couple of welcoming nickers. He smiled at the two horses looking at him, obviously hoping for some grain or an apple or something—surely he wouldn't be coming into the barn empty handed. His smile grew into a grin as he slid two carrots out from inside his sling and offered one to each of the horses there.  
Buck quite happily accepted his and munched it down in no time flat. Karma was being a little bit more picky. She sniffed it and nibbled at it, then took a tentative bite off the top and slowly munched it and then she snapped off another bite while Heyes held it steady for her and chuckled at her display of daintiness.  
He let his mare finish the carrot in her own time and then stepped in closer and gave her nose a rubbing and patted her neck. She was looking better, but still not quite up to snuff, her pupils dilated with the painkiller that Sam was giving her in her grain. The bullet crease on the top of her head was scabbing over and any scaring would eventually be completely covered up by her forelock. The same could not be said for the injury on her shoulder where she had skid along the ground. It still looked raw and painful and though Sam was keeping it clean and hydrated it was still going to leave quite a scar.  
Heyes smiled and continued to rub her neck while she settled her head in against his chest and cuddled.

“Well join the club,” Heyes told her whimsically. “I suppose we're all sporting battle scars now. But you're still my beautiful girl.”

“Oh really?” came a voice from the barn door. “I didn't realize I had such strong competition.”

Heyes' eyes lit up as Miranda strolled down the isle to stand beside the stall. She smiled and stroked the mare. 

“She is quite beautiful,” Miranda admitted.

Heyes just nodded. “So much for guard dogs,” he commented. “I didn't even hear the buggy.”

“Oh, no. I rented a horse from town and rode out,” Randa told him. “I'm actually beginning to enjoy riding. There's so much more freedom on horseback as compared to being stuck in a buggy. I'll be glad when you're up and about again so we can go for more rides together.”

“Yes,” Heyes beamed. “That'll be fun. So you came out by yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I believe that Belle is in the house with Beth if you came to see them.”

“I didn't come to see them.”

“Ohh.”

“You had us all quite worried you know,” she informed him. “when you took off like that. Are you always prone to being so impulsive?” 

Heyes sighed. “No, not normally,” he assured her. “That was stupid.” And he gave Karma a quiet pat as regret passed over his features. “I nearly got both of us killed.”

“That would have been a shame,” Miranda commented and then smiled. “As I said; she is quite a beautiful mare.”

“Ohh,” Heyes commented and smiled himself. “So it's Karma you came out to see.”

Miranda chuckled. “Don't be an ass,” she told him. “Of course I came out to see you.”

“Oh well...it was kinda hard to tell you know—I wasn't sure.”

He smiled at her and then it happened again; he got trapped inside those dark blue eyes that were laughing at him. His left hand slid around her waist and she moved easily into his embrace though she was careful to stay away from his right shoulder. Her arms went around him and she leaned in, staring into those pools of warm chocolate and she began to melt. He came forward and kissed her, gently at first and then with a little more passion—a little more heat.  
Then suddenly he winched in pain as a dark red head butted into his right shoulder. He sucked his teeth and pulled away and sent a somewhat irritated look towards his mare. Karma was tossing her head and had her ears back, then she stuck out her nose and pushed him again. She was not pleased.

“Karma....what....?”

Miranda started to laugh. “Oh dear! She's jealous!”

“What!?” Heyes was incredulous. “What do you mean 'jealous'? She's a horse!”

“Yes, but she's also a female,” Miranda pointed out. “and you're a male—her male!” She laughed again at the bewildered look that crossed over Heyes' face. “She doesn't want to be sharing you with anybody—especially another female!”

“Oh that's just....” but before he could finish Karma reached out and gave Heyes a slight nip on the arm and with her ears back, began to toss her head again even though the movement caused her some discomfort.

Miranda couldn't help it and continued to laugh. “That's alright,” she said and then she put a reassuring hand on Karma's neck. But the mare was having none of it and she pinned her ears even more and took a quick snip at her rival. “Whoops!” Miranda stepped back and laughed even harder.

“KARMA!” Heyes reprimanded her, feeling somewhat embarrassed over his mare's behaviour.

“No, don't worry about it Hannibal. I know when I'm beat,” Miranda assured him. “Look, I'll just go and visit with Belle while you placate your mare.” She continued to laugh. “I'll see you up at the house when you're ready.”

“I'm sorry,” Heyes said. “I don't understand what's gotten into her.”

Miranda grinned at him, her eyes dancing. “I do,” she told him. “No need to apologize. I'll see you up at the house.”

“Yeah, alright.”

Miranda left the barn and Heyes turned a reprimanding eye to his mare but he just couldn't stay mad at her. As soon as Miranda was gone, Karma's ears came up and she nuzzled up affectionately to her human. Heyes laughed and stroked her neck.

“You silly old thing,” he teased her. “How am I supposed to make any progress at all with you behaving like that?”

Karma reached over and nibbled on his shirt.

 

The summer days gradually cooled down into autumn and life at the Double J slowly began to relax into routine again. Beth spent the first couple of weeks in bed and Jed spent as much time as he could sitting beside her and holding her hand and telling her of his day. At first she didn't realize that the date of their wedding had come and then slipped away but once she did realize, well then—yes; she was very upset. Crying hurt her throat though so she bucked up and did her best to understand the reason for the postponement and got on with the business of getting better.  
Bridget had been in a fit of sisterly compassion in her desire to run to Beth's aide, but Jesse was adamant that she stay away for the time being—especially with Rose. It was obvious to everyone now that someone had targeted the Jordan family and until this situation had been cleared up, the fewer targets around for this madman to aim at, the better! Bridget was not happy about this decree, but Steven also put his foot down and the matter was settled.  
Both Carl Jacobs and Joe Morin had been out to the scene of the crime more than once, looking for any clues at all as to the identity of the shooter, but they came up with nothing. Joe got on well with most of the ladies who worked the town but none of them seemed to know anything or if they did they weren't talking. Joe was still 'the law' after all. Nobody seemed to know anything about any strangers hanging around town for no particular reason and the investigation ground to a halt. Heyes and Jed were considering calling in a few trump cards and getting a professional to look into the case but even they had to admit there was nothing much to go on.  
Heyes was still getting his nightmares, only now they were worse; now they involved not only Doc Morin's death but also visions of Beth dying in every sort of horrible, painful way that Heyes' imagination could come up with. David encouraged him to talk about them, but he didn't dare discuss the ones concerning Beth with Belle or even to Jed for that matter. He still didn't feel close enough to Miranda to discuss his inner most fears with her so it was David again who got the brunt of his outpourings.  
As far as David was concerned this was an ideal situation. This way he knew exactly what was going on with his patient and it would give him better ideas as to how to treat him. He didn't want to keep on giving Hannibal sleeping drafts since the more he used them the more he would come to depend upon them and that wasn't good. But still, David could see the ware and tear that the constant nightmares were having on his friend and he couldn't help but worry.

“Hannibal, you're losing weight again,” David observed while he was examining Heyes' injuries. “Everything else has healed up quite nicely, even your muscles and tendons are doing a lot better, but you really need to be eating more.”

Heyes sighed in frustration as he pulled his henley back on over his head. “I know,” he muffled through his shirt and then he pulled his arms through and tucked it in. “It's certainly not Belle's cooking, I just can't eat. My stomach turns into a knot every time I try to put food into it.”

David sat down and watched him as he pulled on his outer shirt and finished getting dressed. He had to admit to being at a loss as to how to help his friend. Hannibal had been doing so well during the summer; he'd been gaining weight and despite the nightmares his overall mood had been positive. Little slivers of his old self had been starting to shine through and everyone thought they had it beat.  
Then that second attempt on Beth's life had blown all their progress to smithereens. The postponement of the wedding seemed to cause Hannibal more distress than it had Jed or Beth. After the initial shock and disappointment of that decree, Beth had rallied bravely and focused on getting better and Jed focused on helping her to get better. Heyes had seemed at loose ends, he just couldn't handle upsets in his life anymore; where he used to thrive on challenges and puzzles to solve, now he almost seemed afraid of them.   
As long as life continued in a straight line and everything was comfortable and secure, he thrived. But any little bump in the road sent him spiralling and the nightmares increased. As observed by the good doctor, and everyone else for that matter, his appetite was practically non-existent and his mood was depressed.  
Heyes finished getting dressed and David stood up again to escort his patient to the front door. He put a hand on Heyes' shoulder in support and Heyes turned and smiled at him.

“Don't worry so much David,” he advised his friend. “I'm not going to starve myself to death.”

David didn't smile back; this wasn't a laughing matter and he was worried. “I've sent some enquiries to friends back east,” he admitted while Heyes strapped on his gunbelt and gathered up his coat and hat. “I'm hoping they've had some experience with nightmares and mental trauma. Perhaps there's even some written material available that could help us. This is almost similar to what Jed went through after his trial, but he was blocking things out—hiding from them and that's not really your situation.” The doctor sighed then, feeling a little discouraged but then he smiled and gave Heyes another pat on the shoulder. “Well, let's wait until I hear from back east—hopefully they'll have some suggestions. We'll get to the bottom of this Hannibal, one way or another.”

“Hmm,” Heyes nodded noncommittally. “In the mean time I think I'll go get a drink and maybe play a hand or two of poker if there's a game going on. Jesse won't let me work too hard until my collar bone is completely healed up. I keep telling him I'm fine but he won't believe me.” 

David did chuckle at that. “Jesse's being very protective of you isn't he?”

Heyes nodded emphatically. “It's like he thinks I'm going to break or something.”

“I'll talk to him,” David offered. “Your shoulder is fine now and a little bit of physical work would probably be good for you—might just get your appetite happening again.”

“Thank you!” Heyes was emphatic, he really was getting bored and with nothing to do he tended to just sit around and worry about everybody.

“I'll see you later.”

“Yeah.”

Heyes walked the short distance in to the business part of town and make his way into the saloon. As long habit dictated, he stopped upon entering and did a quick scan of the room and the patrons there, only this time, rather than hoping to not see anyone he knew, he would have been happy to see some familiar faces.  
Well, by now just about every face in town was familiar to him and he nodded in greeting to the few who were partaking of the wares. But there was no poker game going on at the moment so Heyes carried on over to the bar.

“Afternoon Bill.”

“Hey there Heyes,” the bartender greeted him. “what'll ya' have?”

Heyes considered for a moment. Much to his surprise, the home brew that he had voted for during the 4th of July celebrations had actually won the day and since he did like it, he ordered that.

“How about a glass of Mr. Woodcock's Twisted Pig Summer Ale?”

Bill smiled; that brew had been selling well for him. “Sure thing. Comin' right up.”

Heyes took his glass and then made his way over to a small table down in the corner and settled himself in to relax and people watch for awhile before heading back out to the ranch. He had only been sitting there for a few minutes however, when Joe Morin entered in through the bat wing doors and did a quick scan of the room. He spotted Heyes sitting in the corner and instantly made his way over to him. Heyes shifted uncomfortably and much to his annoyance felt himself tense up and become anxious.

“Afternoon Heyes,” Joe greeted him. “Mind if I sit down for a minute?”

Heyes forced a smile. “By all means Deputy,” he agreed. “Something official come up?”

“No,” Joe admitted and then he looked a little uncomfortable himself. “Actually...well, ever since you got released from prison I've been kinda avoiding you.”

“Yeah,” Heyes nodded. “I guess I noticed.”

“I just didn't quite know how to respond to you,” Joe was still looking uncomfortable, but he was determined to get this out, so he went for it. “I was real mad at you for a long time.”

Heyes dropped his eyes and nodded. He knew where this was going.

“Warden Mitchell told us that you were the one who was responsible for my uncle's death,” Joe explained. “That my uncle had befriended you and that you betrayed and killed him.”

Heyes felt his throat tighten with old emotions. He nodded again and took a swallow of beer, then nearly choked on it when his throat wouldn't open up to let it down. He covered his mouth with his hand until he could swallow it and then sent the young deputy an apologetic smile.

“Sorry,” he rasped out, then coughed a little and took another drink. “I didn't do it, Joe. You know that now don't you?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Jed Curry made a point of convincing me otherwise. But I still...I don't know. I suppose seeing you back here just brought all that up again and I started thinking that maybe you actually had done it and your partner was just covering for ya'. So I decided that the best thing for me to do would be to stay away from you for the time being, to make sure that I wouldn't do something that I might later regret.”

Heyes nodded again. “And now? You still think that maybe I did it?”

“No,” Joe assured him. “I've had some time to watch you and I see the way you are with Miss Jordan and the Doc's cousin. I see the way you interact with the fellas here in the saloon. Jed was telling the truth; you're not a killer. I know you didn't do it. So, I just wanted to apologize for some of the things I imagined doing to you.”

Heyes smiled and gave a little chuckle. “Yeah,” he said. “okay.” Then he turned serious again. “I really was very fond of your uncle. He took me under his wing pretty much, offered me friendship at a time when I really needed a friend. He taught me a lot too.” He smiled then in fond remembrance. “He was a real good man, Joe. He didn't deserve the end he got.”

“Yeah I know,” Joe nodded. “I sure do miss him.”

Heyes tried to brighten things up a bit. “He told me you were thinking about going back east and studying criminology—make if official and go work for Pinkerton's or Bannerman's, you still planning that?”

Joe sighed a little regretfully and then shrugged. “I donno,” he admitted. “I was thinking about it but it's kind of expensive and my folks need me here. I like it here too, and Sheriff Jacobs is a good man to work for.”

“Hmm,” Heyes nodded. “It is a nice town—you could do worse.”

“Yeah,” Joe became quiet for a moment and then looked over at the ex-convict. “You know my uncle is buried just up in the cemetery here. You'd be welcome to go pay respects if you'd like.”

“Yeah,” Heyes mumbled, looking into his beer. “I thought I'd wait until he stopped visiting me before I went to visit him.”

Joe frowned. “What?”

Heyes straightened up and smiled over at the deputy. “Never mind,” he said. “And thank you—you're right; I will go see him.”

“Good,” Joe smiled. “Well, I suppose I should get back to my rounds.” Then he stood up and offered Heyes his hand. “Good to see ya' healed up—and Miss Jordan too. It's a shame we weren't able to get to the bottom of that.”

Heyes stood up himself and shook the deputy's hand. “It ain't over yet Joe. We'll find out who it is.”

“Yeah, well just remember the conditions of your parole Heyes,” Joe reminded him. “I'd hate to see ya' get yourself into trouble over this.”

Heyes smiled. “Oh, don't worry about that Deputy; my friends aren't about to let me forget about it.”

Joe smiled himself then and nodded. “Good! Let me know if you need anything.”

“I sure will,” Heyes assured him.

Joe turned to leave as Heyes sat back down again, but then Heyes remembered something and beckoned to him. “Oh, Joe....”

“Yes?” Joe turned back to look at him.

“Ahh, thanks for comin' after me,” Heyes told him. “That was a stupid thing for me to do—I wasn't thinking straight. So—thank you.”

“You're welcome,” Joe responded. “I'll see ya' around.”

“Yeah.”

Gradually the days were getting shorter and the nights colder. Winter coats were beginning to put in an appearance and all the horses were changing from sleek to shaggy almost over night.  
Beth was recovering from her ordeal both physically and mentally and though she would sport a scar upon her throat for the rest of her days, her long blonde hair did a lot to cover it up. Jed didn't mind, told her that it made her part of the gang now and she'd smile at that, especially when he made a point of kissing it when no one else was around.  
As far as Beth was concerned, the only downside to that autumn was the fact that she had expected to be 'Mrs. Curry' by now and the postponement of that occurrence still irked her considerably. She had tried to solicitate a Christmas wedding but that idea had been shot down for two reasons. One; the bad weather at that time of the year would make it difficult for friends and family to attend. And two; until they knew for sure that no one in the Jordan family was still being targeted, they were not about to put on such a public display. The wedding would have to wait.  
Heyes was finally being allowed to work and with the colder weather, he was finding just the care of the homestead livestock was quite enough to wear him out. He still wasn't eating as much as he should be though and the nightmares and depression persisted. He did feel lighter of spirit and more optimistic when he was in Miranda's company, but even then he hesitated in becoming too committed. He wasn't ready and he knew it. Heavens! He didn't even know who he was anymore, let alone who he might want to spend the rest of his life with! Miranda seemed to understand; indeed, she seemed to appreciate not being pushed and they entered into the colder weather simply enjoying one another's company.  
Overall though, the mood at the Double J was one of underlying worry. The older adults tried hard to cover it up with routine but it was still there, lurking in the shadows and refusing to go away. Nothing else happened through September and October but Jesse wasn't letting his guard down, and neither were Jed and Hannibal. They, more than anybody else had an understanding of the criminal mind and they knew how persistent an antagonist could be if he felt he had justification.  
So, the three men of the household kept on their guard and even J.J. was not allowed to play outside in the yard without supervision.   
On top of that the weather wasn't helping the situation at all. Of course during this time of the year, autumn storms were to be expected but with everything else going on, the banging and clanging caused by the blustering winds did not help to calm the nerves that were already on edge. Everyone tried to settle in and occupy themselves with small indoor chores or entertainments when the wilder of the storms hit. But it seemed that only the cat truly knew how to appreciate a warm bed by the stove and a roof that didn't leak.  
The wind howled around the eaves of the Double J, competing with the rain driving into the window panes for attention. But the thunder clap, roaring and crashing in the heavens triumphantly proclaimed superiority over such a piffling cacophony.

Belle looked up from her darning with a frown. “What a horrible night.” The lightening flash lit up the room. “Still a few miles to go before it's right over us.”

She smiled at the scene of domesticity lit by the golden light of the oil lamps; Heyes and Curry playing a game of cards with Jesse at the table, Beth knitting a Christmas gift for her sister and the cat curled up on the rag mat in front of the range. It would be perfect—except for the niggling worm of worry in the background.  
She sighed and looked back down at her work, rubbing the bridge of her nose and blinking away the stain. Maybe it would be better to do this in daylight? She set the sock aside and relaxed back into the rocking chair. Time for bed. It had been a long, hard day.  
The loud rap at the door cut through the room, jangling everyone's nerves. Kid's hand dropped to his gun, not quite believing what he had heard. The door was hammered again as anxious eyes darted around.

“Who could that be at this time of the night?” gasped Belle.

Kid stood decisively. “Only one way to find out.” He stood to the side of the door, gun drawn. “Who's there?!” he barked. “What do you want?”

“It's Abigail! Open the door!”

Heyes leapt to his feet, his eyes like saucers. “No!” he whispered hoarsely. “It can't be!”

 

To Be Continued.


	3. Comings and Goings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The unexpected arrival of a previous lover throws Heyes for a loop.

Comings and Goings

The loud rap at the door cut through the room, jangling everyone’s nerves. Kid’s hand dropped to his gun, not quite believing what he had heard. The door was hammered again as anxious eyes darted around. “Who could that be, at this time of night?” gasped Belle.  
Kid stood decisively. “Only one way to find out,” he stood to the side of the door, gun drawn. “Who’s there?” he barked. “What do you want?”  
“It’s Abigail. Open the door.”  
Heyes leapt to his feet, his eyes like saucers. “No,” he whispered, hoarsely. “It can’t be.”   
The door was battered again, the female voice ringing with Scottish tones. “Let me in! It’s horrible out here.”  
There was another thunder clap, punctuating the tension before Kid released the catch and turned the handle. The door swung open, the lightening flash illuminating the silhouette of what looked like a cowboy, water running from the brim of the hat like a blocked gutter. “Abi?” murmured Kid. “Is that you?”  
She strode into the room, water dripping from her long waxed coat in rivulets. “Of course it is. How many women do you know with a Scottish accent?” She smiled, staring deeply into Kid’s eyes. “Jed, you do look well. It’s good to see you again.”   
Kid slammed the door closed behind her and stared at her incredulously. The cold had nipped at her nose and ears, turning them bright red and a sopping tendril of hair snaked its way across her cheek, slathered in place by the wind. “Abi? You look horrible,” he chortled, gathering her up in his arms and lifting her off her feet in a great, soggy, bear hug. “What in the name of all that’s holy are you doin’ here?” He dropped her back on her feet and held her at arm’s length. “I can’t believe this, especially at this time of night.”  
She stripped off her coat, casting apologetic eyes in Belle’s direction. “You must be Mrs. Jordan. I’m so sorry to drop water all over your floor.   
Belle nodded, drinking in the wet denim clinging to her legs and the feminine hips emphasized by the tied down gun. “You know our boys.” Belle glanced at Heyes, before she fixed Abigail with wise eyes. It was a statement, not a question.  
Abigail nodded. “Yes. It’s been a long time. My name is Abigail Stewart.” She paused, casting dark eyes in Heyes’ direction. Her lips parted, apparently stopping herself before she spoke again. “A VERY long time.” She gave a weak smile. “Mr. Heyes...” her voice caught slightly before she dropped her head and looked away.  
Kid nodded towards the gun. “I’ve never seen you armed like that before, Abi. You look like you mean business.”  
She released the stampede strings and pulled off her hat, revealing her dark, dank hair pulled into a bun at the nape of her neck. Her dress was obviously functional and not a disguise. “Just because you’ve never seen it, doesn’t mean it never happened, Jed. Someone’s trying to hurt people close to you. So – yes, I mean business. I’m deadly serious about dealing with this.”  
Kid’s eyebrows arched. “You know about that?”   
She nodded. “I certainly do. I get the newspapers for this area sent to my home. What I’ve read recently has been very disturbing.”  
“Jed? Mr. Heyes?” Beth held the strange woman’s gaze in challenge. “I take it you are closer to my Jed than you are to Hannibal? I thought we’d met all their old friends.” Her voice became more clipped. “Those close to them helped. Where were you?”  
Kid gave Beth a firm look. “Abi helped. More than you know.”  
“Really? What did she do? Who is she?”  
Abigail smiled warmly at the young woman. “Your Jed? You must be Beth, and you’re the reason I’m here. I’m not here for your man, Beth. You can relax. I’ve come to help.”  
Beth frowned. “I’m sorry, but who are you? What were you doing while we were working hard for five years? Why has nobody even mentioned you?”  
Jed folded his arms. “Abi has done a great deal, but she works in secret. She has to. You need to trust us on this, Beth.”  
“She needs to trust me too, Jed.” Abigail turned back to the young woman. “I find out secrets. I dug up a great deal about every governor who refused to release Mr. Heyes. One even resigned because of what I uncovered. I made sure they all knew that they would have to be completely fireproof as long as he was in jail, and that I’d keep digging as long as he was in there. It was my mission to ensure that keeping him in jail was more trouble than it was worth. There really aren’t many politicians who have a completely clean record in business, in love, or in both.”  
“Secrets?” Beth bit into her lip. “But how?”   
Abigail arched her eyebrows. “Anything can be uncovered if you know where to look, or how to get into it. We all have secrets, and generally speaking; the more powerful you are, the bigger they get.”  
Jesse cleared his throat. “Miss? I don’t know if you’re aware of the terms of Hannibal’s parole, but he isn’t allowed to associate with criminals.” His voice firmed. “I don’t care what the weather is doing out there, but he can’t afford to have you around. We don’t harbour criminals.”  
Abigail pulled out a seat. “I’m very pleased to hear that and it’s very similar to something I said to this pair the last time I saw them, but then, they were fully fledged outlaws – and I was a Pinkerton.”  
Beth’s mouth dropped open. “You!? Yes, they did say they knew a female Pinkerton. That was you?”  
She glanced at the cousins in turn. “You told someone about me? Really?”  
Jed shrugged. “Well... You are kinda memorable, Abi.”  
“Not as memorable as you two.” She looked at Heyes again, the flicker of a frown ghosting over her face. “Mr. Heyes, how are you?” He held her gaze in an intense, nonspeaking stare and gave an indifferent shrug. She looked away, blinking nervously, before addressing the Jordan family. “Mr. and Mrs. Jordan, someone is trying to kill your daughter. That has to be addressed. You and she have to get out of here until we sort this out.”  
“Where can we go? Surely they’d just follow us?” Jesse looked over at his wife. “Still, you're right; the women at least should go. How can you deal with this on your own?”  
“Tomorrow an elderly woman will arrive. She’s been in town for two days, making a fuss about coming to see the men she thinks may be her long, lost great nephews. She will leave with Jed, and the Jordans will go to town on a shopping trip. They will see her off at the station, but at the last minute they’ll get on the train. Jed will take them to my home in Topeka and make sure nobody is following them.” Abigail looked at Beth and Mrs. Jordan in turn, “I understand you have a boy. You must bring him too. No bags, no warning – they’ll have no time to follow you. You couldn’t be safer there, with a crack shot who has guarded the president.”  
“You’ve guarded the president?” demanded Belle.  
“I live with an old friend, she was also a Pinkerton, but she is now a doctor. She will look after you.”   
“You live with Hester?” All eyes turned to Heyes, who had spoken at last.   
Abigail nodded. “Yes, Mr. Heyes. Just me, Hester and Anya.”  
His voice rasped with emotion. “How is she?”  
Her eyes softened. “She’s wonderful. Clever, funny and as much trouble as a barrel load of monkeys. You’d be proud.”  
“Would I?” he asked, bitterly.  
Abigail bit into her lip. “Yes. And so will she, when she’s old enough to know who you are. This is your turning point, but we need to make sure that those connected to you are safe.”  
Heyes stared aimlessly into nowhere. “Yes...”  
Abigail took a deep breath and looked back at the Jordan women. “Jed will see you safely to Topeka, and then come back here. We’ll need him. The old lady who arrives will be me, but Beth will leave wearing that disguise. They’ll think Beth is still here until it’s too late, and you’ll be safe until we get this sorted.”  
Jesse shook his head in confusion. “Do you really think this is necessary?”  
“I lost my eldest daughter to a criminal, Mr. Jordan. I want to save you from that pain. They must get to safety.”  
Belle and Jesse shared a conversation in a glance. “We need to talk about this.”  
Abigail nodded. “Of course,” she picked up her coat. “I must be going. I’ll see you tomorrow, but I can’t emphasize strongly enough that Beth must leave, at the very least.”  
“You can’t go in this!?” Jed scowled at the window. “You’re already soaked to the skin and it’s a long way to town.”  
“I have to. Nights like this split the professionals from the amateurs. I’m less likely to be followed in weather like this.”  
“Heyes, tell her. She can’t ride out in this,” Kid held her hat back from her, shaking his head.  
“She’ll do what she wants to do. She always does,” shrugged Heyes.  
Abigail and Kid shared a frown. “Heyes, I wouldn’t send a dog out on a night like this. You can’t allow this. At the very least she should stay here and dry out.”  
“It’s not my call,” muttered Heyes.  
“Then I’ll make it mine,” interjected Jesse. “You do need to dry out, Abigail. Your trousers and shirt are soaking. You can leave at dawn, in dry clothes, after some rest. Beth will leave tomorrow, but my wife and I will discuss how many more members of the family will accompany her.”  
Abigail pursed her lips in thought. “I doubt I’ll sleep, but your care is appreciated. At least I’ll dry out.” She sat back down. “My horse is outside; she'll need to be tended to. Is there a stall where she can spend the night and dry out herself? I must be gone before dawn, though.” She glanced at Heyes. “I clearly need to be brought up to date.”  
“Of course,” Jesse assured her. “Jed could you....”  
“I'll do it!” Heyes interjected and then before anyone could argue the point he went over to the coat tree, threw on his hat and coat and headed outdoors. Even a night like this was preferable to standing there feeling like an idiot. He had to get out—get away from her! He had to give himself a chance to re-group. What the hell was she doing here!?  
He took the lantern down off its hook and shielding it from the wind he struck a match and lit the wick. The light flared up and almost sputtered out again, but he was quick with enclosing the flame inside the lamp and it held and though it flickered, the flame shone brightly. He turned and started down the steps and then tightened up the stampede straps on his hat so that it wouldn't get blown away.  
The poor horse was tied to the porch railing looking spooked and soaking wet. Her eyes were showing white in the lamplight and she blew in nervousness at the man coming towards her; she really didn't like this situation at all! Heyes spoke quietly to her and then untying the wet reins he led her prancing and blowing over towards the second barn.  
Once there he pushed open the doors and then the wind grabbed them and slammed them open even harder. The mare spooked and pulled back just as another flash of lightening lit up the sky and thunder rumbled loudly across the horizon. The mare then jumped forward, nearly running Heyes over and causing him to almost drop the lantern into the straw! Now wouldn't that have been a fine thing! Abi shows up out of the blue and then her horse sets fire to the barn! How much more fitting could that be!? Oh Heyes was in a mood!  
He hung the lantern up on its hook out of harm's way and turned and closed and latched the doors. He led the mare down to one of the empty stalls having to keep his shoulder and an elbow leaned against her to stop her from running him over in her hurry to get someplace safe. He finally got her into a stall, striped the gear off her and threw it out into the isle way. He then came back out to the open area, grabbed a dry blanket and a flake of hay and returned to the stall. He might be in a mood but he wasn't about to leave a horse soaking wet and hungry no matter what he might be thinking and feeling about the rider—if he even knew himself what he was thinking and feeling!  
He gave the mare her flake of hay and then noticed the pricked ears and hopeful looks of the two draft horses who made up the other occupants of this barn and so went and grabbed two more flakes of hay for them. They didn't seem to be too upset by the storm, perhaps the mare would be influenced by their calm demeanour and settle down herself.  
He gave the mare a thorough rubbing down, not being in any hurry to return to the house and not really understanding why. While in prison he had dreamed of the day when he might possibly see Abi again, that he had forgiven her that cruel decree and that he did still love her. But when she had walked in on them so totally unannounced and unexpected the emotions that had surged to the surface were anything but forgiving or loving. Suddenly he was angry again—just as angry as that day ten years ago when she had pushed him away, when she had denied him his paternal rights. He rubbed at the mare's hide even harder and she was actually enjoying it—it felt good, but Heyes himself was venting! Muttering under his breath and cursing the day he'd first laid eyes on Mrs. Abigail Stewart!  
Ellie had actually padded out of her hiding place from the storm to come and greet the human in the barn, but once she got a hint of the mood he was in she turned tail and rejoined the two little dogs who had chosen to stay in their nest, buried in the loose hay. Nothing short of breakfast was worth coming out of the warmth on a night like this. Ellie decided she was going to agree with them.  
Finally Heyes had to concede that he couldn't rub the mare down any further and he left the stall. He picked up the gear that was still laying in the isle way and hauled it up to the front of the barn and set it down on a railing, hanging the saddle blanket out full so that it could dry at least a little bit before morning. Then he sighed and turned to stand, staring at the closed barn doors.  
Maybe he could just spend the night in here. No; he knew that wouldn't wash. He'd only have to face her again in the morning when she came to get her horse anyways. Oh well. It's close to bedtime. Just get back in there and then retire. If Jed wanted to stay up and visit well, that was up to him. Another sigh. He didn't move.  
“Dammit!” he cursed and Ellie was glad to be safely back in her nest. “Dammit.” he repeated. He paced back and forth a couple of times, muttering obscenities under his breath, stopped and stared at the barn doors again. Another big sigh and then he took down the lantern and with a knot in his gut he left the barn and headed back across the yard towards the house.

Heyes was in the dark cell. He was scrunched into the corner, clutching his knees to his chest and shivering with cold and fear. Why did he have to keep ending up in this place—he hated it in here; he couldn't even remember what he had done to deserve it this time! His teeth chattered as he stared into the blackness and he groaned in fear at the sound of something scurrying passed him. He pushed himself deeper into the corner and wanted to cry.  
“Papa...?”  
Heyes jumped. “Wha...?” He looked around in the darkness and saw nothing. “Who's there?” Even he could hear the tremor in his voice. “Who's there!?”  
“Papa! It's me....”  
“I can't see you!” Heyes called out. “Where are you?”  
“I'm right here Papa. Why aren't you coming?”  
Heyes fought harder to see through the darkness that hid everything. He began to feel desperate and getting onto his hands and knees he started to pat the floor, feeling his way forward, trying to find the source of the voice.  
“Where are you.....where are you....?”  
“I'm right here Papa. I'm waiting for you.”  
Then Heyes saw a light shining before him and slowly the form of a little girl began to take shape and she stood there, her thick long dark brown hair curling down over her shoulders and her hands clasped politely in front of her. Just like in the photograph. Heyes reached out to her, trying to touch her, desperately wanting to take her into his arms.  
“Anya....?”  
Then the expression on her face tightened and she suddenly looked confused.  
“You're not my Papa....!”  
“Yes I am, sweetheart.” Heyes assured her. “I am your Papa....”  
“No you're not!” she insisted. “My Momma said that my Papa died, so how could you be him?”  
“No, no Anya! I am your Papa!” Heyes insisted. “You have to believe me!”  
“Why should I believe you?” she sneered. “You're a thief! A criminal! You lie to people all the time! You're not my Papa!”  
“Yes, Anya, sweetheart....”  
“How dare you call me that!” she screamed at him. “Only my Momma and my Aunt Hester call me that! You're nothing—you're nobody! You have no right to call me that!”  
“No Anya!” Heyes yelled out in desperation, but the little girl began to fade away, the light swirling around her and swallowing her up until there was nothing left. “NO! Come back! Anya—please....!”  
But she was gone and Heyes was left alone in the darkness again. He desperately patted the floor of the cell, moving forward trying to find her, trying to bring her back. Then suddenly the floor gave way and his hands sank down into the rolling mud that had once been a solid surface. He panicked, trying to pull back but the mud had hold of him and began to suck him down into its depths. He fought and struggled, desperately trying to get free, but it continued to pull him down first to his elbows and then he was up to his shoulders and he started to scream.  
He screamed and screamed but the mud kept sucking him down until his chin was sinking into the mire and then he felt the sludge roll into his opened mouth and he sputtered and spit and clamped his teeth shut, pressing his lips tightly together. He could no longer scream but his mind was crying out at full volume inside his head as his nose was pulled under and he could no longer breathe! He fought and struggled until his eyes were pulled into the blackness that was blacker than black and his lungs were burning and he couldn't help it! He couldn't help it and he gasped for air but all he drew into his lungs was the suffocating mud!  
Then he was gasping and scrambling, pushing himself back against the headboard and clutching the blankets to his chest! There was light in the room, it was coming up on dawn and he could smell coffee perking but his mind was spinning and he couldn't breathe; fear was clutching at his chest and he shivered from the cold sweat that covered him.  
Belle was there—oh no! Not Belle again! Why did it always have to be her, oh but then who better? She seemed to be the only one he could truly let down all his defences with and know that she wouldn't think anything the less of him because of it. He let loose a deep shuttering sigh and for the briefest of moments allowed her a glance into his soul.  
She saw that he was awake but she could also see the terror in his eyes. She was over to the bed instantly and sitting down she laid a gentle hand on his trembling one and gave the cold, clamming fingers a reassuring squeeze. He continued to hug his drawn up knees but returned her hold as he fought to stop the trembling. This was awful; even in front of Belle. He had to stop these nightmares, he had to stop being so weak.  
He held onto her hand, almost desperately as though it were his only hold on his sanity. His jaws tightened stubbornly as he refused his emotions full reign.  
He wasn't fooling Belle however, and her other hand instantly came up and joined with the first to hold on to him. “Ohh, Joshua. No It's alright.”  
“When are they gonna stop?” his voice was a whisper, a tight, pleading whisper punctuated by his ragged breath. “I'm losing my mind—I don't know who I am anymore.”  
“Shhhh,” she continued to sooth him. “you're not losing you mind Joshua. You're alright. Shhh, you're alright.”  
“I'm scared to go to sleep.”  
She continued to sit with him on the bed, holding his hand, consoling him until his breathing finally settled and she felt the trembling ease off. He gave a deep sigh but continued to hold on until he was sure that he had control over his emotions again. He met her eyes then and smiled at her, though it was a weak smile at best. She smiled back and rubbed his drawn up knee under the bed clothing.  
“You feel better now?” she asked him.  
“Yeah. I'm sorry.”  
“Stop apologizing; it's not your fault,” Belle assured him. “You're not losing your mind, there's just so much you need to work out and I have a funny feeling that Abigail showing up here has dredged up some old memories—opened some old wounds.”  
He gave a small sardonic laugh. “Yeah,” He sniffed and wiped his face on the sleeve of his henley and then he uncurled his legs and stretched them down so that he was sitting on the bed beside Belle but still modestly kept the blanket pulled up so that it covered his long-johns. Leaning forward he rubbed his face with his hands and gave another deep sigh. He still felt worn out, like he'd just been put through the corn grinder.   
They heard the front door open and Jed's familiar footsteps came in and head towards the kitchen. He passed by the open door to Heyes' bedroom then stopped when he saw people in there and back stepped. It didn't take him long to know what was going on.  
“Aww jeez Heyes,” he commented. “did you have another nightmare?”  
“Yes he did,” Belle answered as she rubbed his back. “Quite a bad one too, by the sounds of it.” Then she smiled a reassurance at Jed, knowing he would be concerned. “Did Abi get away alright?”  
“Yeah she's long gone,” Jed confirmed and then he smiled, hoping to lighten the mood “Next time we see her she'll be a whole new person!” It didn't work. “Ahh, I smell coffee. Ya' want some?”  
“Yes Thaddeus, thank you,” Belle smiled and looked at Heyes as she caressed his back. “You ready for some coffee Joshua?”  
“Yeah,” Heyes sighed and then he glanced up and locked eyes with his cousin. Jed did indeed look worried and Heyes smiled back at him hoping that would be enough to let his cousin know that he was alright. “Yeah, coffee sounds good. Just let me get dressed.”  
“Alright,” Belle smiled at him as she stood up. “we'll see you out in the kitchen. The rest of the household should be up soon and maybe we can make some hotcakes this morning.”  
“Sounds good,” Heyes agreed, though he didn't come across as too convincing.  
Belle gave him one more shoulder rub and then she walked out of the room and closed the door behind her so Heyes could finish getting dressed. He sat on the edge of his bed for a few moments just trying to settle his thoughts. He was still feeling jittery but knew from past experience that a cup of coffee and conversation with friends in the light of day would soon chase the night fears away.   
A slight movement caught his eye and he smiled weakly as the half-grown fluff ball came out from hiding under the dresser.  
“Scared ya' did I?” Heyes asked the kitten.  
“Murr,” came the feline response as she trotted over to the bed and jumped up. Heyes began to stroke her and his smile broadened as she began to purr.

The stout Matron drew up in a hired wagon, the Jordan family spilling out from the house to greet her. J.J. gave a whoop of excitement and ran towards her, all gangling legs and waving arms. “You’re visiting us? They’re in here. You’re related to my uncles?” the boy grabbed the hand clad in a grey day glove.  
“Let the lady get in the house, will you?” Belle smiled at the driver. “It’s fine, Sam. We’ll take her back to town. We’re heading there today, anyway. You can go.”  
“But I’ve been paid for the whole day,” Sam replied, uncertainly.  
The old lady turned, speaking in an American accent. “I’ll be fine. Mrs. Jordan has offered to take me back. Just go. You can keep the money; after all you weren’t to know you wouldn’t be needed. You’ve probably turned down other work to bring me here.”  
“Well,” Sam shrugged, “if you’re sure.” He twitched the reins and trundled away.  
“Well, let’s get inside,” the abrupt switch in accent stopped J.J. in his tracks.   
His jaw dropped and he stared at Abigail. “You sound funny.”  
Belle frowned at him. “J.J.! The lady is Scottish – they talk like that. Don’t be so rude.”  
There was a tinkling laugh from behind the veil. “Children are so honest, aren’t they? Yes, J.J., I expect I do sound funny to you – just as all you Americans did when I came here from a little island thousands of miles away. You’ll get used to it.”  
They reached the steps to the porch, where Kid leaned on the door jamb and nodded in welcome, his eyes fixed on the wagon driving off in the distance. “He’s gone. It’s just us now.”  
“Maybe not,” Abigail replied. “Let’s get inside.”

J.J.’s eyes widened in amazement at the old woman dragging off her hat and wig, before unfastening the padded bodysuit down the front, unveiling a slim, dark haired woman dressed in a simple black riding habit.  
“It’s a kind of game, J.J.,” Abi told him with a smile. “Your sister is going to try to trick people into thinking she’s an old lady. You’re not going to give the game away, are you?”   
The lad grabbed the wig, balancing it on top of his straight, blond hair. “What am I gonna be?”  
Abigail grinned. “You are going to be the most important part of this trick. You are going to be the watcher.”  
“The watcher? What’s that?”  
She crouched down. “You must realize that we usually pick men to be the watcher, don’t you? Are you old enough for this?”  
The boy nodded gravely, the wig wobbling sideways, making him look like a drunken judge. J.J. had no idea what a ‘watcher’ was – but if it was a man’s job, he wanted to do it.   
“You need to look at people’s eyes. If you see anyone looking at your sister or you mother for more than ten seconds, you must tell Jed. You must tell him very quietly, though. The trick is for you not to let anyone know the watcher has spotted them. Can you do that?”  
“Easy!”  
“Good. So, who’s going?”  
Jesse put an arm around his wife. “Beth, Belle and J.J.” The couple shared an emotional look. “I need to stay to make sure the place still runs.” He nodded towards Kid, “and I’ve got the feeling that the boys are going to be busy. At least I’ll know my family is safe.”  
“Jesse, I’m real sorry about all of this.” He gave the Jordans a pained smile. “You deserve better than this. You all do.”  
Jesse nodded, smiling at his wife. “Keep them safe for me, Jed. Get them there.”  
“I will.”   
“Where are we going? We’re going somewhere?” demanded J.J.  
“To town,” his mother replied, firmly. “We’re going to see the lady off at the train.”  
Abigail indicated a carpet bag. “There’s some cold food to keep you going, basic toiletries and some basic nightwear.” She deposited some papers on the table. “You can write and send telegrams, but not directly. They will go via the Pinkerton Office in Chicago. We can’t run the risk of someone just picking up the address from your mail. Hester will take you shopping for clothes.”  
“You seem to have thought of everything,” murmured Belle.  
“I hope so,” she paused. “There’s just one more thing. You are going to stay in my home. My daughter is there. She’s ten...”  
“A lovely age,” Belle gave Abigail a smile of reassurance. “I’ve brought up two daughters. I’ll take good care of her for you.”  
“You don’t understand. She doesn’t know about me, or about... Well, anything.”  
“Ah!” Belle nodded. “And you want us to keep your secret?” Their eyes met. “All your secrets?”  
Abigail heaved a sigh of relief, sensing the understanding in the other woman’s gaze. “Please. It’s the only place I could think to send you.”  
“Your eldest daughter,” Belle reached out and lightly touched Abigail’s hand. “I understand why you’re here. Thank you.”  
“Secrets?” Beth narrowed her eyes. “She doesn’t know you’re a Pinkerton?”  
Abigail shook her head. “Was. I gave it up years ago, and no, she doesn’t.”  
Beth frowned. “So? What are your other secrets?”  
“Beth, if you haven’t worked it out, it’s best to leave it,” Belle replied.  
“But what if I say the wrong thing? And why hasn’t Hannibal come to see us off?” She frowned. “I know he’s missed Karma, but he’s just avoiding us by staying out there.” She fixed Abigail with accusing eyes. “He’s avoiding you! Why? What did you do to him?” Beth sucked in a breath as an idea hit her. “Did you help put him in jail?”  
“No! Of course I didn’t.”  
“Beth!” Kid folded his arms. “Abi would never do that.”  
She sat firmly down in a chair. “He doesn’t trust her. I’m not going.”  
Jesse ran his hand distractedly through his hair. “Beth, we’ve talked about this. You have to go. It’s not safe here.”  
“Got to? I don’t think so. He hardly said a word to her last night, disappeared out to the barn and then went straight to his room when he found out she was staying.” Beth’s lips firmed into a straight line, “and now he keeps a low profile as soon as she arrives? No. I’m staying. There’s something wrong.”  
“Beth,” Kid strode over and fixed her with an intense stare. “Don’t you think I’d know it if he hated her.” He leaned over her, tilting her chin up with a crooked finger. “Heyes and I would put our lives in her hands, and by trusting her with you, I’m doing exactly that. He doesn’t hate her – you couldn’t be more wrong.”  
“What’s going on then? Why is he so upset?” She bit into her lip, “I’m not going anywhere.”  
Belle and Jesse exchanged a desperate look. “You have to, Beth. It’s not safe here,” murmured Belle.  
“Do I need to get Heyes?” Kid asked. “Don’t you think he’d have spoken up if he didn’t think you should go, Beth? They have a past, and he finds it hard to deal with emotions at the moment – that’s all it is.”   
Beth sighed. “I suppose... He’s just acting so strangely. I need to speak to him, just to make sure,”   
Belle picked up the padded suit to examine it. “Beth, if Abigail’s daughter asks, we’re staying there because somebody is sick. We’ll work out who on the train. That’s all you need to know.”  
“Train?” J.J. hopped from foot to foot. “We’re going on a train? Where are we going?”  
“Now see what you’ve started,” Belle tutted at Beth. “It’s a surprise, J.J. It’s a special train with the watching game.”  
“Ooh! I’ll get my hat.” The boy scampered to his room, stopping halfway. “My magnifying glass – the one I got for Christmas. Can I bring that?”  
Abigail tilted her head up the staircase at him. “That would be just perfect for the watching game.”   
Beth made her way over to the door. “I’m sorry if I seem rude, Abi, but there’s something wrong, and I have to be sure. I need to speak to Hannibal before I go anywhere.”  
Abigail shrugged. “Whatever you need to do, Beth, but don’t be long, you have a train to catch.”   
“Where does your daughter think you are?” Belle asked.  
“Her name is Becky, and she thinks I’m visiting a sick friend who has measles. It’s contagious, so people have to stay at my house so they can’t catch it. I’ve had it, so I’m immune.”  
“Who’s Anya?”  
Abigail’s eyes softened. “A pet name, but please don’t call her that. It’s just for family.”  
“How typical of his daughter to have an alias,” Belle muttered under her breath. “You are such a wonderful liar. If only Hannibal had used his abilities like that instead of turning to crime.”  
“Mama, that’s rude!” gasped J.J.  
“But true,” Abigail turned and snapped open her bag and produced theatrical greasepaint. “How do you think Beth will like being aged fifty years?”

Beth made her way out to the first barn and pushing the door open she stepped quietly inside and took a look around.  
“Hannibal?” she called out a little tentatively.  
“Yes?” the familiar voice answered her from down in Karma's stall.  
Beth smiled and made her way down there and sure enough, her friend was in the stall with his beloved mare, grooming her with a soft brush even though her thick coat was already shinning.  
“You almost ready to go?” Heyes asked her with a gentle smile.  
“Is it alright for me to go?” she queried.   
Heyes furrowed her brow and then putting the brush down he opened the stall door and stepped out into the isle way.  
“What do you mean?” he asked her, feeling concerned. “You know it would be safer for you to leave here. Just for now.”  
“But you don't seem to trust this woman,” Beth pointed out. “and I'm supposed to just leave with her? If you don't trust her then....”  
“Oh no,” Heyes' tone was full of regret. “No, sweetheart. Don't take my mood as any kind of a reflection on Abi's ability to protect you.” He smiled at her then and gave her a hug. “You'll be safe with her, of that I have no doubt.”  
“But you don't trust her,” Beth pointed out again, her voice slightly muffled against his shoulder. “You don't even want her here; you've made that very clear.”  
She felt Heyes give a sigh and then he pushed her away and held her at arm's length for a moment. His hand moved up and gently touch the healed over wound on her neck, then cupped her cheek in that same hand and smiled a sad smile at her.  
“Abi and I have history together,” he finally admitted to her. “She chose to end things between us ten years ago and in hindsight she was probably right considering our situations and all that. But I was hurt by it and very angry. When I was in prison she wrote letters to me and helped to keep me going and I thought that maybe the old wounds were healed over and we could be good again. It's just the shock of seeing her unexpectedly after all this time, that's all it is Beth. It's hard for me to deal with it. But believe me; if anyone can keep you safe, she can.” Then he pulled her into a hug again and stroked her long blond hair.   
“Well now I'm really worried,” Beth commented.  
Again Heyes frowned. “Why?”  
“She had your love and she sent you away?” Beth reiterated. “How is that sensible?”  
“Ha!” Heyes grinned and hugged her even closer. “Thank you!”  
Beth smiled into his shoulder. “For what?”  
“For making me laugh again,” He hugged her tight and kissed her forehead. “I love you, ya' know. You're a dear, dear friend. You and Jed are going to be great together.” He sighed and again pushed her to arm's length and gazed into her brown eyes. “All the more reason why you need to leave. I don't even want to think about what a bear Jed would be to live with if anything happened to you. You can trust Abi, Beth. Don't let my sour mood deter you.”  
“That's what Jed said,” Beth admitted. “that you were just having a hard time dealing with all the emotions of seeing her again.”  
“Well he's right,” Heyes supported that. “I want you to go with her. It'll be fine.”  
“Well if you're sure....”  
“Yes I'm sure,” Then he gave her another kiss and smiled at her. “I'll say my 'goodbyes' to you here though. I think it'll be better if I don't come up to the house right now.”  
Beth smiled. “Alright Joshua...oh! There I go calling you Joshua again! Sorry.”  
“That's alright.” he grinned. “I don't mind one little bit.”  
“Alright. Goodbye 'Joshua'.”  
“Goodbye,” Heyes said softly. “We'll see you soon. Take care of yourself.”  
“I will.”  
And she left.

 

Abigail’s eyes flickered open, gazing around Beth’s bedroom. She sat up and dropped her tired head into her hands. She had hoped that she would feel more positive after a nap, after all, it had been a long, bone-achingly cold night. By the time the Jordans said their goodbyes and set off in the wagon for their trip to safety, she had been light-headed through lack of sleep. The time she had spent drying her clothes had been filled with Kid bringing her up to date on Heyes’ treatment in prison and the effect it had had on him. It was a harrowing tale.   
Heyes needed care, patience and routine, and it was clear her presence had upset his sensibilities. The wild, burning anger of the man who had stalked away from her at their last meeting had hardened into a cold hatred which assaulted her every time he deigned to glance at her – and that was rare. He had walked silently from the room when Jesse had invited her to stay, and had made sure he was with his horse in the paddock when she arrived. Once he had said his goodbyes to the Jordans, Heyes delivered another of his heart-stopping glares and strode off towards the barn. He delivered his mute message with clarity.   
He had broken her heart all over again. He was so thin, gaunt, and lost; and all she wanted to do was take him in her arms and rock him gently back to safety, but the light had gone out in those wonderful eyes, replaced by ghosts and shades of horror. They no longer danced with mischievous promise – they slashed like a razor as they dashed by, because just about anything else was more interesting. The pain gnawing at her heart was all too familiar, and was all the worse for returning after a period of respite. He had accepted her letters and her apologies when he was in prison – at least she thought he had. It was now clear that he had been a desperate, lonely man clinging at any shred of kindness he could find. Now he was out, he no longer needed to clutch at that straw. She was just another bad memory to be dispelled.   
The sound of laughter drifted through the door. Female laughter. Intrigued, she ran a brush through her dishevelled hair and wound it into a chignon before she made her way to the kitchen. Two women sat at the table, enjoying light, easy conversation with Jesse and Heyes. Abigail arched her brows in surprise.  
“Aah, you must be Mrs. Stewart. I’m Tricia Gibson, and this is my cousin, Miranda.” She stretched out an elegant hand, indicating a package on the table. “My husband’s the doctor and we thought the need to deliver some medication was a good excuse for a visit. Hannibal needs it to sleep. Belle’s gone then? How good of you to help out these helpless men at a time of family emergency. Goodness only knows what Belle would come home to, if this lot were left to their own devices.”  
“Please, call me Abi.”  
The other woman’s eyes gave a twinkle of appraising deep blue under her slim eyebrows. “Lovely to meet you, Abi. Miranda – everyone calls me Randa.”  
“Have either of you been offered a drink?” Both women shook their heads as Abigail smiled. “After that distance? Let me get one for you, tea? Jesse, Mr. Heyes!? What are you thinking?”  
“That would be lovely, Abi. So, what do you think of our part of the world?” asked Tricia.  
Abi poured water into the teakettle and placed it on the stove, turning to chat over her shoulder. “I haven’t seen much of it yet, but everyone seems very welcoming so far, but you are all I have to judge it on. So far, so good.”  
Randa looked bemused. “You call him Mr. Heyes? Hannibal, surely you can let Abi call you something a little less formal?”  
Heyes laid a gentle hand on Randa’s forearm. “I doubt I’ll see her enough for it to matter,” he replied, dismissively.  
The two visitors exchanged a glance before Tricia changed the subject. “We came to see if Beth and Jed were going to come to the Thanksgiving dance, maybe you’d like to come instead, Abi? It would be a great way to meet people.”   
Abigail shrugged. “A dance? I didn’t bring anything suitable. It was all very last minute.”  
Randa stood, roughly measuring Abigail’s hips. “I’m sure I have something. My green, Tricia – wouldn’t Abi look beautiful in my emerald satin.”  
“Oh, my! She certainly would. It would be wonderful with her dark hair.”  
Abigail turned back to the range to tend to the whistling kettle.   
“She’s shorter than you, Randa, but we could take it up. Please say you’ll come, Abi?” Randa turned to Heyes and Jesse. “Tell her she must come.”  
“You’d have fun, Abi,” Jesse offered.  
“It makes no difference to me,” grinned Heyes, “with you two in the room, who would notice anyone else?”  
The two guests blinked in surprise and embarrassment. This was not the mild, charming man they knew. What was going on?   
“Do you take milk and sugar?” Abigail put the kettle back on the range with a clatter, biting her tongue, mentally reminding herself that he needed patience. “Let’s wait and see, shall we? If we’re lucky Beth and Belle will be back soon, and I may be gone.”  
Heyes sat back in his seat, stretching his legs out in front of him. “We can only hope, eh?”  
Jesse glared at Heyes. “I’m sure he didn’t mean that the way it sounded, Abi.”  
She deposited the cups on the table. “I’m sure Mr. Heyes will be very pleased to see everyone back where they belong.” She gave Tricia and Randa a weak smile. “Excuse me, but I have some chores to do. It has been lovely meeting you.” She stalked over to the door closing it firmly behind, blinking back burning tears. 

So... It was a cold, damp day and she had just shut herself out of the house. Where was she to go? She stomped over to the barn - at least that offered some kind of protection from the elements. She needed time and space to think. This couldn’t go on. Operating under this kind of emotional stress was likely to lead to mistakes and she couldn’t afford those, not when lives were at stake.   
A chicken scuttled passed her, flicking its head back and forth in concert to each strutting step. Abigail looked hopelessly around for a place to be female, to weep, until some of the pain washed away. Heyes could never find out he had made her cry. He knew how rarely that happened.   
The ladder to the hayloft was illuminated in a dull streak of light. Yes, it was private and fairly soundproof. That would do fine - it wasn’t as though anyone cared enough to come and find her.  
Her tears hadn’t been cathartic, the acid had burned her eyes and cut through her sinuses, leaving her face puffy and red. She opened the hatch a crack, allowing her to watch the visitors leave, with surprising alacrity after her departure. They called her name to bid farewell, but she ignored them. They had been lovely women, but she needed solitude. So much energy had gone into being brave, getting on with life, and she now knew she'd been deluded to think that she could work with Heyes as a parent. There was no light at the end of the tunnel.  
Pain gnawed into new, sensitive areas. She had lost her family, her career and her reputation through her involvement with this man, but she had hung on to the memories and a stupid hope that something could be possible in the future, or that at the very least, it had mattered. If Anya was old enough to understand... if the timing was right... if he cared enough to wait... she now damned herself to hell for being such an idiot. It was clear that all that mattered to him was to forget she and Anya had ever existed.   
She had left home a week ago and had spent the last three days, and broken nights, investigating the respectable and, not so respectable residents, for any motivation for the attacks on Beth Jordan. The straw was soft, and a wave of fatigue washed over her. Her breathing started to slow down. She drifted off into a haunted, caustic dream.

Jesse and Heyes returned to the house after the ladies had made their departure. Heyes was in a sour mood and would have been just as happy to spend the rest of the afternoon in his room and read but Jesse had different ideas.  
“Hannibal! Sit down!” he ordered, sounding very much like a father speaking to his recalcitrant son.  
Heyes turned with a glare, his mood already so deeply set that he would even go so far as to defy Jesse. He set his jaw and stood with hands on hips, challenging the other man; daring him to push this doctrine. Jesse was having none of it! He'd had to give Jed a sock on the jaw in order to get him to buck up and start behaving himself and he wasn't beyond doing the same thing to Hannibal.  
Jesse returned Heyes' glare, his own jaw tightening and his hands closing to fists. “I said 'sit down'.” He repeated, his tone low but menacing none the less. He was not going to stand for this nonsense; not in his house.  
Heyes continued to glare at him, stubbornly not moving. The two men locked eyes and Jesse pushed, daring him to make good on his challenge. It seemed an eternity, the two men locked in yet another battle over male dominance but gradually, just as before, Heyes started to back down; this wasn't Devil's Hole and he wasn't the great outlaw leader anymore. He wasn't anything anymore. He blinked a couple of times, his stance softening and then he looked away. He was still angry, he was still defensive but Jesse had him beat and they both knew it.  
“Hannibal, sit down,” Jesse repeated a third time but without quite the same heat to it.  
Heyes sighed and then looking around for a chair, he pulled one away from the dinning table and sat down, preparing himself for a chewing out. Jesse pulled out a chair as well and joined him, getting hit with a sudden deja vu moment of the last time the two of them had sat together at this same table and Jesse had assured the younger man that he would not be forgotten about. Jesse sighed; so much water under the bridge since that day—so many changes.  
“What was that all about?” Jesse finally asked him. “This woman has come here with an offer to help us and you treat her like she's the devil incarnate. What's gotten into you?”  
Heyes continued to sit, looking at the table but his eyes were still hard with anger. “Kid was right—what he said last night. We have history and I don't want to talk about it.”  
“Well TOO BAD!” Jesse was getting angry again himself. “You damn well better start explaining yourself—and right now!”  
Heyes' jaw was working; he didn't want to talk about this but Jesse wasn't about to let him off the hook.  
“FINE!” he finally snapped out. “I loved her once upon a time, alright! I'd never loved anyone like I loved her and she stabbed me through the heart. She took our daughter and she pushed me away! She denied me access, denied me any contact at all. I HAVE A TEN YEAR OLD DAUGHTER WHO DOESN'T EVEN KNOW I'M HER FATHER!”  
Silence settled over the table. Jesse's anger softened a little bit as he realized that Hannibal's acid verbal assaults were a defensive mechanism resulting from a deep seated pain. He nodded. “I can understand why you would be angry about that.” Heyes snorted. “Am I correct in assuming that her eldest daughter, the one who died—was also yours?”  
“Yes!” came out as a strangled affirmation.  
Jesse sighed again, running his hands through his hair. “I'm sorry Hannibal, I didn't know. That's a hard thing to have happen, but don't you think that Abigail has suffered too? Don't you think she only did what she did out of the best interests for your daughter? You were an outlaw, running a gang of outlaws. Can't you see what a detrimental lifestyle that would be for a family?”  
“I did,” Heyes admitted. “Time and distance convinced me that it was all for the best, that Abi was right—and then she shows up here! Out of the blue! NO WARNING! Just 'HI! I'm back! I'm here to help!' Like ten years is nothing! Like she can just waltz back into my life as though nothing had happened!!”  
“I can see how that would have been a shock,” Jesse agreed. “But that still doesn't give you the right to speak to her in that manner. She is the mother of your children Hannibal—she deserves respect.” Heyes just snorted again, he was not feeling very respectful. “To speak to anyone in that manner while in my home will not be tolerated. She has travelled a fair distance in order to help us in this situation and I for one think that she is more than capable. She is welcome in my home and as long as she is here you will treat her with the respect that she deserves. Do you hear me Hannibal?”  
“Yessir,” Heyes practically snarled at him. “Can I go now 'sir'!”  
Jesse bit back an angry retort, realizing that it would do no good at this point. He nodded and gave a slight gesture towards the door of Heyes' room. Heyes slammed the palm of his hand onto the table by way of ending the conversation and then stood up and stomped off to his room. Jesse sat quietly at the table for some time trying to digest all that had gone on there.  
Hannibal was hurt and angry and still so damaged that he had no tools left to help him deal with all these emotions coming at him in quick succession. Too much was happening all at once and all he seemed capable of doing was to raise his arms and lash out in his own defence. He wasn't emotionally capable of realizing, or perhaps of even caring that it was the people closest to him, the ones trying to help who were getting hurt the most.  
Jesse sat back with yet another frustrated sigh. Oh my goodness! What a time for Belle to be away!

She woke with a start, blinking in the half light. What had wakened her? Her answer came fairly quickly; people were shouting her name outside. She crawled over to the hatch and peeked out, Jesse, another hand, and to a much lesser degree, Heyes, were calling for her. How long had she been asleep? It felt like hours. She rubbed her face and tried to shake herself back to reality. The bone-deep, life-corroding loneliness still gnawed, but no matter what, she had to face, she had to swallow it down and see it through for her daughter.  
She lay on her stomach, watching the search from her vantage point, trying to garner the strength to put herself back into the lion’s mouth. Her dark eyes settled on Heyes, and Jed’s words rang through her mind; Heyes needed care, he was having difficulty facing any emotional issues; he needed time, protection, and support... but why did he have to be so cruel? She would have given anything to spend her life with him – almost – she couldn’t sacrifice Anya’s safety, but now he couldn’t even be civil.   
She raised her head, suddenly fixing on the dark figure over by the chokecherry bushes. Action was required. He needed to be dealt with – immediately.

Jesse was the first to see her, stomping towards them, full of business. “Hannibal! She‘s here, she’s fine...” His voice trailed off as he noticed that she was bearing the shotgun he usually kept in the barn in case of predators. She was pushing cartridges into the barrels and snapping the barrels up into a two hand carry, ready for use. His voice rose in concern. “Hannibal, what’s she doing?”  
Heyes eyes widened. She was heading his way with a shotgun and he knew he’d royally pissed her off. “I don’t know. Abi, put that down.”  
“Oh? You can speak to me when I’m armed?” she retorted. She stalked passed Jesse, on course for a confrontation with Heyes.   
He raised his hands to chest level in appeasement. “Don’t be stupid.”   
“Stupid!? I’m way passed stupid.” She gave an angry puff. “I was stupid when I gave you a chance. I’m now a gormless eejit.”  
“Abi, put the gun down!” yelled Jesse. “I know he’s been an idiot, and I told him as much, but there’s no need for this.”  
She raised the gun, ready for use. “There’s every need.” She darted an impatient look at Heyes. “For heaven’s sake, what are you just standing there for?”  
“Huh?” grunted Heyes.  
“Get out of the way, man!” She pointed straight at the chokecherry bushes. “You! Put your hands where I can see them and stand up. Do it slowly.”  
There was a slight rustle before she yelled again. “Do you think I won’t blow your head off? You have three seconds!”  
A black hat appeared over the foliage, between two pink hands raised in surrender. They grew until a man with a pointed nose and a dark moustache appeared. Abigail thrust both barrels into his face.  
“Walk! No false moves.” She led him out of his concealment and forced him into the open. “KNEEL, and keep those hands on top of your head.”  
“Abi...”  
She glared at Heyes. “Do something useful, man.” She glowered at the stranger. “Get down on the ground.”  
“But, ma’am... My suit.”  
“Abi...”  
“GET DOWN ON THE GROUND!” The man complied instantly, lying face down on the wet, cold mud. “Hands on your head and keep them there.”  
“Abi...”  
“Why are you flapping around like an old woman? Pat him down for weapons. He’s probably armed.”  
Heyes sighed. “I’ve no doubt he is, Abi. He’s an old friend. Hello, Harry.”  
Harry Briscoe turned his head, mud splattering his face. “Call her off, Heyes! Take that gun away from her.”  
Heyes gave a chortle and took the shotgun, breaking the stock to make sure it couldn’t go off accidentally. “You can get up, Harry. It’s safe.” He smiled apologetically. “He’s a Bannerman Agent, and we invited him here to help.”  
Abigail’s jaw dropped. “A Bannerman?”  
“Yup.”  
“You asked a Bannerman Agent here? But I had to find out from the newspapers!?”   
Heyes shuffled uncomfortably. “I guess... I didn’t want to worry you.”  
Outrage burned in her cheeks. “So, you knew someone was harming people close to you, and you didn’t even think to let me know?”  
“Well... I thought you’d be busy. Maybe... I just didn’t think.”  
Her face blanched, seemingly set in stone, before she strode towards the house. “I’ll be gone first thing in the morning. I’m clearly not needed here.”

Abigail sat in Beth’s bedroom, her bag already packed. The smell of cooking wafted from the kitchen and her stomach gave a growl of protest. Damn! She hadn’t eaten since breakfast. The soft tap at the door made her look up.  
“Abi? It’s Jesse.”  
“Come in,” she sighed.  
Jesse fixed her with kind blue eyes, leaning against the door. “Come and eat. You must be starving. You missed lunch when you disappeared for hours.”  
“I’ll get something later.”  
He gestured towards the bed, asking permission to sit beside her. “Beth’s room.” He glanced around nostalgically. “I’ve had some heavy conversations in here.”  
Abigail gave a watery smile. “I’ll bet. I’m starting those myself.”  
“Yeah, daughters, huh?”  
“Yes... they grow up so fast.”  
“Abi, I had a long talk with Hannibal about the way he’s been treating you. I’ve told him it’s not acceptable.”  
“As long as he’s under your roof, he lives by your rules, eh?” She gave a rueful chuckle. “I thought he’d welcome me after the things he wrote. I was deluding myself.”  
“No, you weren’t. You bring up a lot of emotions in him, and he can’t deal with them. His strategy is to ignore you or dismiss you. It’s just too much all at once.”  
She shrugged. “Well, it worked. I’m well and truly dismissed.”  
Jesse glanced down at her bag. “You’re really leaving?”  
“At dawn. I’d have gone now but it would mean riding into town and a woman arriving alone after dark would raise suspicions, especially when I have to leave a horse there for you to bring back to the Double J.”  
“You don’t have to go. He’ll be much better behaved now. I promise.”  
“Yes, that’s what every woman wants in the father of her child - a man who has to be told off to make him tolerable company.” She shook her head. “No, you now have a detective, and one he wants to be here. I’ll go.”  
Jesse arched his eyebrows. “You could stay a little longer? Try being a little more assertive - give him a chance. Prison changed him and he’s still working out who he is.”  
“I can’t sit back and allow anyone to treat me like that. I can’t tell him off, so I need to go.”  
Jesse put a fatherly arm around her shoulder and she gave an involuntary shudder of emotion, the realization hitting her that it had been well over a decade since she had experienced that kind of human contact. “Abi, there is no need for you to bite your tongue and take it. I think he’s afraid to deal with you, but there’s just that little part of him who’s provoking you, forcing you to make him face up to his fears. I haven’t seen him act like this with anyone else, so it must be a really big thing for him to look you in the eye again.” He patted the top of her arm. “Tell him. I do, Jed does too. It works. If nothing else; make sure he doesn’t get the last word. He needs to face these things, but in a safe, supported way. I’ll help.”  
She turned her dark eyes up to Jesse. “It’s tempting.”  
“Well if that’s tempting, you should taste the chicken pie Belle left. She’s a real good cook.” He stood. “Come to dinner, Abi, if he so much as steps out of line, I’ll back you up. You bore that man two children – I simply won’t allow him to treat you with anything less than complete respect.”

Heyes looked up at her with surprise, before arching his brows and dropping his head to examine his plate. Jesse ushered her over to the empty seat beside the Bannerman detective. “Harry, this is Abi.”  
The man’s face glimmered into a shifty smile. “I remember. Feisty piece, aren’t you, Abi?”  
“I’m sorry about making you lie face down in the mud, but you shouldn’t really go creeping around like that.”   
“Yeah, but I was making sure it was safe to make my presence known. That isn’t something a woman like you would understand. It’s detective work.”  
Jesse and Heyes caught her gaze, but stayed silent. They clearly wanted to see how this unfolded.   
“A woman like me?” Abigail mused. “I have to agree with you. Rustling about in a chokecherry bush in broad daylight is beyond me.”  
Jesse put down plates bearing delicious smelling slices of pie, before adding dishes of mashed potatoes, carrots and a gravy boat to the table. “Dig in, folks.”   
“I can understand your nervousness, Ma’am, I know what’s been going on, but you now have a Bannerman man here to protect you.”  
“I know,” Abigail placed a spoonful of mashed potatoes onto her plate. “That’s why I’m leaving.”  
Harry slid suspicious eyes in her direction. “Ma’am, I have to point out that Heyes can’t mix with criminals. Have you been convicted of anything? Are you wanted?”  
She chewed thoughtfully on a carrot. “Nope, they dropped the charges.”  
“Charges? What charges?” demanded Harry.  
Abigail gave Harry her sweetest look. “Murder, in broad daylight, in front of dozens of people – but it never made it to court. They agreed with me.”  
Harry’s mobile eyebrows met in the middle. “I think you’re messing with me, ma’am.”  
“Does it matter? I’ll be gone in the morning.” She smiled at Jesse. “Belle is a wonderful cook, this pie is delicious.”  
“I’m trying to persuade Abi to stay longer. Tell her, Hannibal.” Jesse lifted a forkful of pie to his mouth. “I think we need her.”  
Heyes flicked a dismissive glance at her. “First she arrives in the middle of the night, now she’s going? She wants to make her mind up.”  
“I have, Mr. Heyes. I came here to help, but I see that nobody needs, nor wants, me.”  
Heyes gave an indifferent shrug. “I just don’t know what you want.”  
“I’m keeping my side of our bargain. If you want to walk away from that, you’ll be the biggest loser.”   
Harry glanced at Abigail and Heyes. “So, you two don’t like one another, and you’ve butted heads with the boys in the past, Abi? What was this bargain?”  
“That’s up to Mr. Heyes to disclose. There was no talk of amnesty when I met them,” Abigail looked down at her pie, “and I don’t think Mr. Heyes is happy to be reminded of how his past can still impact on his life. That’s why I’m leaving. I have no wish to make things unpleasant for anyone.”  
“It’s not ill-gotten goods, is it? They never recovered any of the money this pair took.”  
Abigail sighed. “Ill-gotten? No, Mr. Briscoe, nobody stole anything.”  
“That’s a matter of opinion,” growled Heyes.  
Jesse sent him another reprimanding look; perhaps their earlier discussion hadn't been as effective as he'd hoped.  
“I’ll be gone first thing in the morning, Mr. Heyes, you only have to tolerate my presence until I finish dinner because I’ll go back to my room. Just try to ignore me until then.”  
Harry sat back considering the pair. “So you got the better of Heyes in some kind of deal? That’s impressive, but he’s not the kind to forget something like that easily, ma’am.”  
“So I see.” She dropped her fork and fixed Jesse with dark eyes, “I’m sorry that my appetite doesn’t do your wife’s cooking justice. This can’t be any more comfortable for you than it is for me. I must apologize for bringing this to your door.”  
“Ma’am, he’s not violent. There’s no need to worry,” Harry replied.  
“I’ve known Mr. Heyes for a long time, Mr. Briscoe. I know exactly what he’s capable of.”   
Harry smiled, moving towards her like an uncle who kisses too much, and too long. “That figures, ma’am, but I want to reassure you. I’m here, you have a Bannerman man to protect you now.”  
“Afraid? Of him? No Mr. Briscoe, I’m not afraid, just irritated.”  
Harry gave her hand a patronizing pat. “I admire your stoicism, but I can tell. In all my years of experience I’ve seen a lot of strong women putting on a brave front. I’ll look after you. You’re fine.”  
Abigail rolled her eyes, before firmly removing the clammy hand which had curled around hers. “Yes, and nobody can accuse you of a lack of staying power.”  
Harry dolloped a pile of potatoes onto his plate. “Sure have, ma’am. I’m a Bannerman man. We have nerves of steel, hearts of oak and...”  
“A knob of butter?” Abigail asked, sweetly.  
“Huh?”   
“For your potatoes,” her eyes widened innocently, “it makes them lovely and creamy.”  
Harry’s eyes narrowed, glancing around assessing Heyes’ and Jesse’s reactions, but they had dropped their heads so he couldn’t read them. This woman couldn’t have just said what he thought she had... could she? He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “No thanks, ma’am. I’m fine with the gravy.”   
Jesse swallowed down a laugh. “So, Harry. What do you intend to do first?”  
“Well, I had intended to get the women folks to safety, but they’ve mostly gone, and with Abi leaving in the morning, that’s done. We’ve just got to find the shooter.”  
Abi sliced into her pie. “And how do you intend to do that?”  
“I’ll head into town tomorrow and ask a few questions.” Harry loaded up a forkful of food. “Folks open up to a Bannerman man.”  
Abigail sighed. “Won’t that tip him off? Shouldn’t you adopt a role and enquire discretely?”  
“Ma’am, this isn’t a dime novel. Detectives don’t really work that way.”   
Abigail pursed her lips. “There was a man hanging around town – five foot eight, light brown hair, and a dagger tattoo on his right forearm. He had a favourite at the Black Rose, her name is Molly. He asked questions about the Double J. I would suggest you start there, but don’t be clumsy and let him know you’re on his trail. That’ll just give him the chance to cover his tracks.”  
Harry’s brows furrowed. “And just how would you know about that, ma’am?”  
“I was in town for a few days before I came here. Women talk, you know how we are.”  
Harry shook his head. “No, I meant about covering his tracks.”  
Abigail shrugged. “That’s just common sense.”  
“I use tried and trusted methods, honed to perfection over the years, ma’am.” Harry delivered a superior smirk. “I don’t use common sense.”  
Abigail and Jesse shared a look of concern. “Does that description ring any bells, Hannibal?” asked Jesse.  
“Five foot eight, light brown hair. It’s about half the men in the state,” muttered Heyes.   
“What about the tattoo?” pressed Abigail. “Is that familiar? Do you know anyone like that from your past? Or prison, what about prison?”  
Anger flared in his eyes. “Will you leave me alone! Do you really think I want to think about that place?” Heyes snarled.  
Abigail gave him a soft smile. “I’m sorry, Mr Heyes. No, I’m sure you don’t.”  
His dark eyes burned into her. “Why did you come here?”  
“I came to help.” Abigail paused. “I didn’t realize how uncomfortable that would make you, so I’m going.”  
Heyes dropped his fork, suddenly off his food. “Good. I don’t need this. I want to get on with my life.”  
“Heyes, Abi has some good information. She can help,” Jesse pressed.  
“That’s no substitute for a professional detective,” Harry interjected.  
Jesse held Heyes’ gaze captive. “Yes, Harry makes a good point too. We need a professional detective and we both know who that is.”  
“It’s not all about you, Mr. Heyes.” Abigail fixed him with an intense stare. “There could be other lives at stake. Nobody’s trying to make life hard for you, but it would help if you’d just try to remember about the tattoo.”  
Heyes smashed his fist on the table with a shattering crash. “Will you leave me alone!? I can’t do it! My God, what right do you have to come around here, demanding that I put my mind back in that hell-hole!? I’m just starting to put it behind me.”  
“Nobody’s demanding anything,” Jesse offered, gently.  
“No,” Abigail gave Heyes a soft smile. “Just think about it – sleep on the idea.”  
“Sleep! What kind of sleep do you think I get?” Heyes snarled. “The sooner you get the hell out of here, the better. There’s nothing on this earth worth that kind of torment.”  
Abigail’s eyes widened, her maternal ire flashing up like oil tossed on a fire. “Nothing!? How dare you?!” She stood striding over to him, pointing at Jesse. “That man’s daughter is worth it, and so is mine! I say ‘mine’ because you appear to have abdicated all responsibility to marinate in self pity. Now I know why you’ve spent so much time out in that paddock - you’ve turned into a complete horse’s ass!” She lifted the gravy boat, tipping it slowly over the top of his head. It oozed its way over his hair until it percolated over his ears and dripped off the end of his nose. Abigail stormed from the room, delivering a final blow over her shoulder. “I resolved to go easy on you because of the terrible time you’ve had, but you took advantage of that. I’ve seen too many graves, Mr. Heyes, and I won’t stand over another to save you from fighting a few ghosts. You need to help the people who helped you. Work with us!”   
Jesse and Harry exchanged a look. “Never a dull moment with her around,” grinned Harry.  
“I did tell her she should try to be a little more assertive.” Jesse folded his arms, “so I bet you’re glad she resolved to go easy on you, eh, Hannibal?”   
Heyes stood, his anger simmering. “Does she really think I’ll let her away with that? Where is she!?”  
Harry jumped to his feet in concern. “What are you gonna do, Heyes? Remember you’re on parole.”  
Heyes stormed off in the direction of Beth’s room, Jesse catching Harry’s sleeve. “Leave them, Harry.”  
“But the man’s furious, I can’t let him do this. He’s on parole. What if he does something stupid?”  
Jesse watched Heyes’ stiff back marching up the stairs towards Beth’s room. “He’s been needling her since she got here. Something was bound to blow up, and he’s caused it. He needs to learn to deal with the consequences of his actions. I’ve got a feeling she can handle him.” 

Heyes kicked at the door, battering it against the wall with a clattering thump. “What the hell do you think you’re playin’ at!?”  
“Oh, so you’re talking to me now? That’s what it took?” Abigail sat on the bed with her arms crossed. She glared at him. “Who said you could come barging in here? Get out.”  
“I’m goin’ nowhere, Lady. Did you think I’d just sit back and take that? Do you think I’m still manacled, and too afraid of bein’ beaten half to death to retaliate?” He strode over to the bed and grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her to her feet. “You’ve finally got my full attention. Now, just how good an idea do you really think that was.”  
She tilted her face up to his in challenge. “Careful – you’re dropping your ‘gs’ and getting all folksy again. Your roots are showing. Now I know you’re REALLY angry. AND IT’S A GOOD THING TOO! It’s about time you felt something other than self-pity.”  
“You little...” he lowered his face down to hers, fury simmering in his dark eyes and his hot breath burning her cheek.  
“Lost for words, Mr. Heyes?” Her mouth firmed into a line, “do you want some help? I can think of enough names for you to keep us here all night.” She tugged against his grasp. “Let me go!”  
His eyes narrowed. “You sanctimonious witch, you’re out of here right now. I’m taking you to town myself.”  
“I don’t need you to do anything for me. I decided it would be a clue that something was up out here if I left tonight, and that’s not good for the Jordans. I’ll go in the morning – when I’m good and ready. The world doesn’t revolve around you!”   
“I can’t wait to see the last of that smug, selfish face of yours.”  
Abigail’s eyebrows darted up. “Selfish! I’m here to save someone else’s life and to look after our daughter. You’re too busy gazing at your navel to see passed your own pain. Grow up, man. People need you, people who spent the last five years working for you.”  
He seized her by the top of her arms, shaking her. “Don’t you dare go there! You have no idea what I’ve been through. I wanted to die – it would have been easier. You don’t know what that feels like!”  
“Don’t you think I know about ‘easier’? I’ve tried to do the right thing. I COULD HAVE JUST DISAPPEARED, YOU KNOW! But I didn’t. I said I’d let you into her life when she was old enough to understand. Involving you in keeping her safe was the start of that. My, God, I’ve been a fool!”  
“Why did you have to come back now? I was just starting to see a way forward; to feel and taste and...” he trailed off, his fingers digging into her arms. “Why now?” he hissed.  
“For my daughter, and I didn’t chose the timing,” Abigail flicked up an eyebrow in challenge, her voice eerily calm. “You’re dripping gravy on me.”  
He grunted in anger, his face distorting in rage. “You self-satisfied, hellcat! You want to see drips?” He swept her off her feet and carried her out of the room. “You got it!”  
Jesse leapt to his feet, concern etched over his face as Heyes clattered down the stairs. “Hannibal! What are you doing?”  
He carried on down the stairs bearing the struggling, kicking woman in his arms, ignoring both Jesse and Harry as he headed for the door.   
“Put me down!”  
“Sure will,” Heyes retorted, fixing her with an evil smile, “and I can’t wait to see your face when I do.”  
He carried her out into the cold night air. Abigail’s eyes fixed on the approaching horse trough and widened in horror. She fought, this time with renewed vigour. “Don’t you DARE! It’ll be freezing. It’s November.” He now stood right over it, so she decided her best tactic was to cling desperately onto him.  
“Bitterly cold, wet, AND completely deserved!” Heyes announced, triumphantly. He leaned over, plunging her into the raw, chilling water with a chuckle. A piercing shriek cut through the air before it was cut off by Heyes pushing her head under the surface. “Who’s dripping now, Abi?”  
She emerged, gasping for air and shocked by the frigid water; her sopping hair plastered over her face, and her skirt floating about her where pockets of air had added buoyancy. “You complete and utter... Aireamh nah-Aoine ort! Thalla’s cagainn bruis, Mhic na Galla!”  
Heyes bellowed with laughter and leaned over with his thumbs hooked in his belt, his gloating face inches from her dripping nose. “Careful, Abi. You’re showing your roots!”  
Her hands darted out, grabbing him by the lapels of his vest, and yanked with all of her might. His awkward position along with her tug was enough to drag him face first into the water on top of her. Abigail was quick to take advantage of the element of surprise, and placed both hands on the top of his head, forcing it under the water. Gurgling bubbles filled his ears, and the jolt of coldness stole his breath, before he got enough purchase on the bottom to prop himself up on his knees. He raised his head, kneeling on all fours between her legs, looming over her, his dripping face a picture of anger, incredulity and exasperation.   
A shivering Abigail sat watching him uneasily in the cold autumn air, waiting for the explosion.   
“Well...,” she bit into her lip, “you needed to wash your hair anyway.”  
Heyes’ eyes narrowed, his breath coming in ragged uneven gasps which hung in the cold, night air like a dragon’s. He stared into her with swirling, intense eyes for the longest time before he gave what sounded like a snort. It rumbled around his throat, before it resonated in his chest, rising to a chuckle, before erupting into a full throated guffaw.   
Abigail’s eyebrows rose in cautious surprise as her own lopsided smile spread over her generous mouth, her lips parting to allowing the giggle to escalate to a full-throated laugh.  
“I needed to wash my hair!?” Heyes spluttered. His eyes softened, and for the first time since she had arrived, he looked at her instead of through her. His voice rasped with emotion. “Only you would dare to push me that far! Oh, God, Abi, I’ve missed you. I missed you so much.”  
The tears in Abigail’s eyes were indecipherable in the darkness. “You too, Mo Gràdh, you too.” She stared into his eyes. “Welcome back, Mr. Heyes.”  
“Madness! Complete and utter madness,” muttered Harry, wandering back to the house with Jesse. “Is it always like this around here?” 

Abigail sat in Beth’s room, towelling off her tangled, wet hair. She was finally warm at last – inside and out. She had washed all the stale trough water away, the nightgown was soft and fresh against her skin, and Heyes had finally shaken himself out of his torpor. Things were better. Not great – just better.  
A soft tap at the door made her look up. “Who is it?”  
“It’s me,” Heyes replied. “Can I come in?”  
She bit into her lip before she replied. “Sure.”  
He gave her a sheepish smile. “I want to apologize. I’ve been behaving like an ass.”  
She shook her head. “No. You’ve been lost. Jed and Jesse have both told me all about your issues since you came out of there. I had no idea it was that bad. I really didn’t want to add to it. If I’d known, I’d never have come. I’d have worked alone.” She gave him a soft smile. “You’re so thin, Mr. Heyes. You need to eat more.”  
He dropped his head. “I guess I just didn’t know how to take you. I know we said things in our letters, but you might not have meant them.” He flicked a nervous look at her. “You probably just felt sorry for me.”  
“I meant every word I wrote, Mr. Heyes.” She held his gaze. “I’ve missed you, but we couldn’t be together. You know that. Didn’t you mean what you said?”  
He heaved a huge emotional sigh. “I’ve had a lot of time to think over the last five years. When we were arrested it was bad – real violent, just like you said it could be. It was bad enough that Beth and Bridget witnessed it, but.... Anya couldn’t have seen that, she could never be caught up in anything like that. It would scar her for life.”   
She fixed him with grateful eyes. “You understand at last.”  
He nodded. “I hated you for years, but I understand now.”  
She gazed off into nowhere. “I never hated you. That would have been easier.”  
“It never struck me that Anya might be in danger, Abi. Kid didn’t see it either.” His dark eyes pushed home the seriousness of his message. “I thought it was a local thing, that’s why we called for Harry, and not for you.”  
“It might be local, Mr. Heyes, but what if it’s people you’re close to? I just can’t take the risk.”  
“Of course you can’t, and I should have thought. My mind’s just not working too well at the moment.”   
“It’ll come back, you’re still there.” She gave him a coy smile. “You proved that tonight. You just needed a little push.”  
“Will it? I just feel so lost. I don’t know who I am anymore.”  
“Admitting that is a big part of getting better. The prison system is designed to break a man down. Allow your friends to support you whilst you rebuild yourself.” Her eyes glistened like molten chocolate. “Some men walk in the rain, others just stand around and get wet. Take action, Mr. Heyes. You can come out of this a better man than you ever were.”   
Heyes walked over and sat beside her on the bed, staring at the wall with haunted, dark eyes. “When you came here without warning, it just shocked me. I didn’t have time to work out what you’d want.” He hung his head. “We said things in those letters, things we never said face to face. It was too much for me to juggle that and everything here too.”  
“I didn’t come here to hurt you. If nothing had happened to Beth I’d have stayed in Topeka and waited to see what you’d do, if anything,” she patted his arm gently. “I’m sorry I was hard on you, but I was so frustrated. I knew you were in there somewhere and I had no more time.”  
“Are you still going?”  
“I won’t stay where I’m not wanted.”  
He rubbed his face, still refusing to look at her. “That’s not it, Abi. I did want you. I just couldn’t deal with the prospect of you rejecting me, so I guess I got in there first.”   
“Did?” She nodded, reading his message loud and clear. “Mr. Heyes, I’m not going to reject you, use you, or make any kind of call on you. We have a daughter and I’m here for her. If you can’t deal with that, I’ll walk away and do this by myself - no hard feelings,” she gave a twinkle of mischief, “at least not now I dunked you, there aren’t.”  
“No hard feelings?” He picked distractedly at the seam of his pants. “After I completely overlooked a danger to Anya?”  
She reached out and wrapped her hand around the plucking fingers. “I’m probably just over thinking this. You know what I’m like. You wouldn’t beat yourself up if you had to rest because you’d broken a leg. This is the same thing, and somebody did this to you deliberately. Just rest, take things easy. None of us can be on top of everything all the time.”  
He pulled his hand away. “That’s what everyone’s been saying.”  
She nodded. “Yes, and then I showed up and ruined it all.” She sighed and ran a hand distractedly through her wet hair. “I’ll go. You can’t deal with this. It’s too much.” He stood and walked over to the door, turning as she spoke again. “Just stay in bed in the morning, and I’ll be gone by the time you get up.”  
“But what about Anya?”  
“I’ll think of something. I’ve worked alone for the last five years – another won’t matter.”  
Heyes closed the door softly behind him and walked downstairs into the kitchen. He found his eyes drifting over to the clock on the shelf. He felt his stomach flutter and darted a look back at the staircase. It was their time – ten o’clock. He groaned gently, pacing for a while, and eventually made his way to his own room, dreading the dreams he’d have tonight.

Beads of sweat glistened on Heyes’ brow as he tossed and turned, muttering and murmuring incoherently. The same scene kept playing over, and over again in a hellish loop. They were back in the infirmary again, Harris had come up behind the Doc and pinned his arms to his side. The start of the end for Doc Morin... Boeman had taken the knife which had supposedly been protruding from his gut and plunged it into the helpless man. The scene never changed, it played repeatedly, maddeningly and relentlessly, worming into his brain. Every time the knife drove into Doc’s flesh he cried out; but nothing changed. Doc was dying...  
He felt a touch on his shoulder and the scene changed. He was fighting Harris, having chased him after the attack in the laundry, until he caught him in the stairs. He lashed out an arm, breaking the brush handle and grabbed him by the throat, forcing him against the wall. “You bastard!”  
There was a light touch to his hair and he was back in the prison cell again dreaming of Abi – of the feel of her curves in his arms, the smell of her musk, and the taste of the salt on her naked, sweating skin. He dragged her into bed and swung himself on top of her. He needed a release, and taking her was one way of stopping the horrors. “Mr. Heyes, stop fighting. Rest, you need to rest.”  
He clamped his hand over her mouth. “Quiet, Abi. I don’t want to talk... Not now. I don’t have much time. They’ll be back in a minute. You know what I want.”  
He felt her ruffle his hair again before pulling his hand away. “Who? Who’ll be back?”  
“Harris and Boeman, they’ll do it again; they’ll kill the Doc.”  
“It’s a dream, Mr. Heyes, it’s all a dream,” he felt her arms cradle him. “Let it go, Mo Gràdh, let it go.”  
“I can’t, Doc keeps coming back.”  
He felt her kiss the top of his head. “Is he coming back, or are you bringing him back?”  
Blackness closed in, the smothering, soul-sucking shadows of the dark cell. “It’s gone dark, Abi! I can’t see! Where are you? Where have you gone?”  
Her voice seemed to echo from the centre of his soul. “I’m still here. Take control of these dreams, Mr. Heyes. Ask him what he wants.”  
There was a pinpoint of swirling light, which grew until it filled the dark cell – he was back in the infirmary again and Harris had grabbed Doc. “Good God, NO! Not again! What do you want!? Just tell me what you want!”  
The scene seemed to slow down, played in the slowest possible pace. And then he saw it - the tattoo of a dagger on Harris’ right forearm where his sleeve dragged back against the Doc’s struggles. “Oh, Doc! I see it! I know what you’re showing me.”   
His eyes opened with a start, the low autumnal sun streaming in through the gap in the curtains. He glanced around the room; he was alone. He rubbed his face and shook himself awake before sitting up and throwing the blankets aside. Of course he was alone. Was that a dream, or a memory? Either way, he had to tell Abi

Harry arched an eyebrow and raised the coffee mug to his mouth, fixing him with eyes like raisins. “Morning, Heyes.”  
Heyes nodded in acknowledgement, eyeing Harry cautiously because of his clipped tone. “What? What’s wrong?”  
“Sleep well?”  
Heyes frowned. “Not bad... I’ve had worse. Why?”  
Harry placed his mug on the table and shrugged. “You’ve changed, Heyes. I never thought I’d see the day you laid hands on a woman, in a less than friendly way, that is.”  
Heyes poured himself a cup of coffee. “Abi has a way of bringing that out in me,” he pursed his lips, “and I never hurt her. Trust me, she gives as good as she gets.”  
“Really?” Harry sat back and folded his arms. “I don’t see you covered in bruises. I don’t like it Heyes. I’m not going to sit back and let you do anything like that again. Got that?”  
“Bruises?” Heyes clattered the pot back on the stove with a frown. “What bruises?”  
“The ones all over her throat and face, Man! Her eye’s cut too.”  
Shock spread over Heyes’ face. “I didn’t do that. Where is she?”  
“You did it last night, Heyes. You were having a nightmare, and attacked her when she came to see how you were. If you’re going to keep doing that, you want to lock your door. You’re a danger.”  
“Where is she? Abi!?” He darted up to Beth’s room, but it was empty. “WHERE IS SHE!?” he yelled.  
Harry stood at the bottom of the staircase. “She’s gone. She told you she was going at dinner. I doubt last night did much to change her mind.”

Jesse turned at the sound of the pounding hoofs behind the wagon. “It’s Hannibal.”  
“Oh, no, just keep driving, please! I knew I should have taken a horse. I’d be on a train by now.”   
Jesse tugged on the reins and drew the vehicle to a stop. “It’s not going to be that easy, Abi. You might be used to a life of excitement, but I’m not about to try and outrun Karma in this old cart.”  
She turned watching the approaching horseman. “Excitement? I teach piano and French from home whilst I bring up my daughter. What kind of life do you think I lead?”  
“Colourful,” grinned Jesse, “primary colours – definitely not pastel shades.”  
Abigail flushed. “I’ll have you know I’m a respectable woman. Apart from Mr. Heyes, I’ve only ever been with my late husband. I live a quiet, modest life. He just seems to bring out the worst in me.”  
Jesse gave her arm a pat of reassurance. “I don’t doubt that for a minute, Abi. A man can tell when a woman’s loose, even one of my advanced years. I only mean that you’re not run of the mill.”  
Karma crunched to a halt beside them, Heyes sucking in a breath at the vivid discolouration mottled over Abigail’s neck, and the gash over her swollen, back eye. “It’s true! No! I’m so sorry... I would never... Abi? I didn’t know what I was doing.”  
She dropped her head. “You lashed out during a nightmare, that’s all. I shouldn’t have come up on you like that.” She looked determinedly forward. “Apology accepted. I must go. I have a train to catch.”  
Heyes dismounted, laying a hand on her arm. “Don’t go, please. I don’t even know if you’re fit to travel.”  
She stared resolutely ahead, avoiding his desperate eyes. “I’ve been hurt before, Mr. Heyes, and I’m not the sort to wilt at a little accidental injury. I’ll be fine.”  
“Abi, look at me!” He stepped up on the wagon and placed a finger under her chin, drawing her face to look towards him. “I hurt you. How can I put this right if you just ride away?” He narrowed his eyes examining the damage, his stomach turning over with self-loathing. “God! Not you... how could I do this to you, of all people?”   
She stared into his eyes. “This is not why I’m leaving. If I’d been wanted here, I’d have stayed regardless. I wish you all the luck in the world. Jesse, please drive on.”  
Heyes darted pleading eyes towards Jesse. “Please, take my horse. I’ll take Abi where she wants to go - I need to talk to her.”   
Jesse shook his head reluctantly. “I dunno, Hannibal. After last night? You got kinda physical even before the nightmare.”  
“Mr. Heyes would never knowingly hurt me,” Abigail cut in. “That’s not why I’m leaving. It was an accident.” She turned back to Heyes. “That does not mean I’ll defend the way you treated me yesterday. I don’t have to put up with that, but I’ll thank you for letting me know where I stand. Drive on, please.”  
Heyes stayed on the wagon, staring into her eyes. “Abi, I don’t want you to leave. I’ve never wanted you to go. That’s what frightened me most about seeing you; losing you yet again.” He reached out to touch her cheek. “Don’t go. We’re free – I’m not wanted, and you’re no longer the law. We need to talk about that, our daughter, our lives, and the future. I’ll damn myself to hell for not having the guts to tell you this yesterday, but not as much as I do for hurting you. Don’t walk away without hearing me out. It’s all too late, I know that, but give me a chance. The only times I ever felt truly alive was when I was with you, or during a successful robbery.”  
Abigail arched her eyebrows. “Is that supposed to be flattering? I was supposed to stop you.”  
“Yes; and that was so much fun, just the best time,” he shook his head distractedly. “Abi, I hurt you. I couldn’t have been more wrong.”   
She dropped her head. “Mr. Heyes, your first instinct was to be unwelcoming, and I was clearly a spare wheel when your visitors arrived. That provoked you to be just plain mean. It was instantly clear you were showing Randa that you had no connection to me, and she picked up on that as quickly as I did. Good luck and I wish you well. She’s lovely. I hope you have a very happy life, and I won’t do anything to invade that ever again. Jesse, can we go now?”  
Heyes darted an appealing look at Jesse. “Please! I just need to talk to her.”  
“It doesn’t sound like she wants to hear it, Hannibal.”  
“Abi, I’ll take you to town. Just give me a chance. I beat the living daylights out of you. We can’t part like this.” Fear swirled in his eyes. “Please, talk to me. I’m frightened, I feel like I’m losing my mind. First I hurt Jed, and now you. If I can do that, then I’m capable of hurting anyone! How can I be around decent people ever again?”  
“You promise to take her to town, Hannibal?” Jesse gave them both a hard appraising stare, accepting Heyes’ nod, before turning to Abigail. “You’re surely not going to let him stew on hurting you, Abi? You said yourself he didn’t know what he was doing. Hear him out.”  
The wagon swung and heaved as Jesse climbed down.  
“It doesn’t look as though I have a choice, does it?” she sighed.

They trundled slowly towards town, as slowly as Heyes was able to make the horses amble whilst pulling a vehicle. “Abi, I’ve never been sorrier for anything in my life. I’d never hurt you – not if my life depended on it.”  
“I know that. Just let it go will you?”  
He turned to face her, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of the deep fingerprints embedded in her alabaster neck. “How can I? Look at you! If another man had done that to you, I’d...”  
“Yes... And you did protect me, more than once. I’m clearly just out of practice, it’s not like I’ve never been around traumatized people. It’s my own fault.”  
His voice softened to a breath. “I heard your voice. I thought that was a dream. Did you stay and talk me through it, even after what I did to you?”  
He watched her stiffen before she replied. “Of course I did, you needed help. Those nightmares are eating you alive. I wouldn’t leave you like that.”  
“So, when you told me to ask the Doc what he wanted... How could you know that’d work?”  
She turned, suddenly interested. “He told you? What does he want?”  
Heyes looked forward, reliving the dream. “He showed me. The same scene kept playing over and over again, but once I asked what he wanted, it slowed down so I could see every detail. Harris was holding the Doc, so Boeman could stab him... Harris’ sleeve slid back; he had a tattoo of a dagger, Abi, on his right forearm, just like you said.”  
She stared intensely at him. “Did you ever notice that any other time?”  
He shook his head. “He was showing me, Abi. I’m sure of it.”  
She pursed her lips. “Or your mind was playing with it, one of the two. You need to get Harry to send for Harris’ details, let’s see if he does have that tattoo. It’ll be on the prison records.”  
“I beat the life out of you, yet you embraced me... I felt you stroke my hair,” his voice rasped with emotion. “You stayed for me after I did this to you.”  
Her voice tightened. “Of course I did, how many times do I have to tell you? I don’t blame you for hitting me. You needed looking after and I wasn’t going to desert you at a time like that.”  
“How’d you know, Abi? How did you know to tell me to ask him?”  
Her voice tightened. “You’re not the only one who’s haunted, Mr. Heyes. I have my own ghosts.”  
He tugged on the reins, pulling the horses to a halt. “And you learned to deal with them?”  
“I had to...” she fell silent, staring into the distance.  
“Abi, I did wonder how you coped. I did care.”  
She jumped down from the wagon, striding off towards the trees. Heyes jammed on the brakes and followed.   
“What do you want?” she cried, swirling around. “First, you don’t so much as look at me, and now you won’t leave me alone!”  
He folded his arms, gazing at her. “Is it Becky? Does she haunt you?”   
“Of course she does. Every day... amongst others.”  
He flicked up an eyebrow. “Others?”  
“I’ve killed three men, Mr Heyes. One was shooting at me, another at a colleague. Then there was Knap.”  
“Three? I didn’t know that, Abi. You only killed to save a life.” He furrowed his brows in concern. “You’re not a killer.”  
“I wasn’t saving anyone when I killed Knap.” Her eyes clouded over, “he’d have been hanged anyway. That was revenge, pure and simple.”  
He tilted his head, speaking to her as though speaking to a skittish horse. “That was maternal instinct, Abi.” His voice softened. “You found a way to deal with it all? I really hope you have.”  
“I have, and I tried to use it to guide you.” She walked towards the wagon. “You have to take control of the dreams. I use them to see Becky, and I tell Knap that I’d do it again in a heartbeat. He doesn’t stick around after that.” She turned. “Let’s go.”  
He reached out and held her arm, scrutinizing her. She built up walls and rarely let anyone see her weaknesses, just like he used to. This was a new side to her. “Has it gotten better?”  
She looked deeply into his eyes. “To start with I could only think of the hole she left in my soul. The pain was physical, emotional, and spiritual – every part of me hurt – to the point it wasn’t so much that I wanted to die, I just wanted it all to stop. I know what you meant when you said you wanted to die in prison. I couldn’t take any more,” she turned away. “You never had the means in there, at least, not easily. That was for the best.”  
He sucked in a breath. “Abi? You didn’t! What did you do?” He felt her arm tremble in his grasp.  
“I used to have a gun, with just one cartridge in the barrel before I spun it. I suppose I was leaving it to fate. I wasn’t even brave enough to take decisive action. I’m a coward. I had no family, no job; my baby was dead, and I was so completely alone. I had nothing left to live for. All life promised was more pain. I just couldn’t see how I could go on. I had nothing, so nothingness seemed appropriate. Somehow, it just never happened.”  
He closed his eyes, fighting back the tears as he drew her into an embrace. “Oh, God, Abi... No! What if you’d succeeded? No... I had no idea you were going through that.”  
She pulled back to look into his eyes. “I’ve told no one, and only I tell you now to help. The pain gets less, the mind is kind – you forget. You are encompassed, but you go through the motions, and after a while, you have the beginnings of a life. I sometimes remember the pain, and feel guilty about feeling happy; but mostly I can think of them without tearing my soul apart. Yours is a loss of your own life, but the process will be the same. You will prevail. Just take control of the dreams. You’ve already found that it works.”  
He hugged her to him, sucking in her scent. “What saved you? What stopped you trying?”  
“Anya.” She buried her head into his shoulder. “I found out I was pregnant, and I would never take a life unnecessarily.”  
“Anya,” he whispered, hoarsely. “Our beautiful daughter, her picture stopped me too.” He cupped her bruised face in his hands, appalled at the damage he had done to her. “Forgive me, Abi.”  
“There’s nothing to forgive,” she whispered. He looked into her eyes and knew she meant every word. “Forgive me too,” she murmured. “I never meant to hurt you either. Not ever.”   
“Come back with me, Abi. Don’t leave. We have so much to sort out.”  
She pursed her lips, her dark eyes swirling with a million thoughts. “Take me to town.”  
“Please, Abi, don’t go.”  
“I’m not, not yet. I think you should go and tell the doctor about how you’ve managed to use the dreams for something positive. He needs to know that if he’s drugging you at night. I have to go to the Black Rose. I can use these injuries to persuade them I’m a battered wife with nowhere else to go. I have to speak to Molly to see if she can tell me more about that stranger with the tattoo.” She raised her eyes and smiled at him. “I’ll stay and help. I’m not convinced that Harry is such a great detective anyway.”   
His face dimpled into a smile of relief. “Do you think the dreams will stop now?”   
“Baby steps, Mr. Heyes, you can only eat an elephant one bite at a time.” She reached out, tentatively fingering the scar on his throat. He flinched, prompting her to take his hand and place it on the white, star-like scar on her head. “The bullet wound. It’s part of me now, so are the rest, I don’t even notice them anymore.” Her brow creased pensively. “What did Francis of Assisi say? ‘Start by doing what’s necessary, then do what’s possible: and suddenly you are doing the impossible.’ First things first, you need to master your own mind again. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised at how much falls into place after that.” 

Heyes wandered aimlessly back and forth outside the Gibson house until Tricia had had enough. She opened the door and gave him a smile etched with curiosity. “Are you on sentry duty, or are you here to see someone?” she flicked up an eyebrow. “David’s in his office, unless you’re here to see Randa? She’s gone to the store, but she’ll be back soon.”  
Heyes felt a weight lift off his chest. He couldn’t contend with both Abigail and Randa on the same day. “David,” he murmured, distractedly. “I need to see David.”  
Tricia gave a sweet smile tainted by worry. “Are you all right, Hannibal?”  
He gave a deep sigh. “I need to speak to David.”  
“Sure, come with me.” She held the door open for him to follow her down the hallway to the doctor’s office. She tapped lightly at the door. “David, Hannibal is here. He’d like to see you.”  
The door opened, the doctor frowning slightly at the visitor’s weary eyes. “Hannibal? Come in. I wasn’t due to see you for another couple of days. Is everything all right?”  
Heyes followed David over to the desk and took a seat. “David, I had another dream.”  
David nodded. “And it drove you here?”  
“Yes... well, not so much the dream, more what happened during it.”  
David sat back, his eyes holding Heyes’ dark gaze with interest.   
“I hurt someone, David. I grabbed her by the throat and punched her in the face.” Heyes dropped his head into his hands. “I’m dangerous. I need to be locked back up! I’d NEVER have hurt her – not her. First Kid, now her. I’m losing my mind.”  
David sat upright. “You hurt a woman? Who? Where is she? Did you bring her here?”  
Heyes dropped his hands and turned tired, dark eyes on the young doctor. “She’s staying at the Double J. She came into my room because she heard me having a nightmare.”  
“Ah, yes. Mrs. Stewart. I did want to ask about her.” He frowned. “Belle, Beth, and J.J. have all gone to help nurse someone with measles, and she’s looking after the house?” He frowned. “J.J. has never had measles. Belle would never expose her son to that deliberately. What’s going on?”  
Heyes bit into his lip. “Can I trust you?”  
David looked a little hurt. “I would have thought you would know the answer to that by now.” Heyes just sat and looked miserable. David smiled slightly, realizing then that it was reassurance his friend needed now, not a reprimand. “Hannibal, everything you say to me is completely confidential. I’m your Doctor.”  
“What about your wife? And Randa?”  
“Even from them,” David’s brows furrowed. “What’s so secret?”  
Heyes gave a nod of cautious satisfaction. “They’ve gone to Kansas because we think somebody is trying to hurt Beth. We’ve hidden them, and Abi is helping.”  
“Abi?” David took up his pen and started to take notes. “That’s Mrs. Stewart? I have to say, I think it’s a good idea for them to keep a low profile. I won’t mention the measles to anyone, but I’d recommend you find some other ailment in case anybody else spots it.” He flicked questioning eyes up to Heyes. “So this woman wandered in to tend to a nightmare and got a beating. How badly hurt is she? Do I need to get out there?”  
Heyes shook his head. “She’s in town. She’s, well... kinda independent. If she’d wanted a doctor she’d have come to see you.”  
“The capable widow? I know the type.” David paused sensing that there was a lot more to come. “It couldn’t have been too bad if she came to town.”  
Heyes groaned. “No, it was bad, really bad. I’ve attacked two of the people who mean the most to me in the world. I’m an animal. Her eye’s cut and swollen, and her throat’s covered in bruises.”  
David’s eyebrows flicked up in interest. “The most? I know you assaulted Jed... but Mrs. Stewart? You know her?”  
Heyes fixed him with desperate eyes. “Yeah, I know her. I’ve known her for a long, long time.” Heyes’ fingers curled around the arms of the chair. “She’s the mother of my children.”  
David’s eyes widened in surprise. “I didn’t know you had children, Hannibal.”  
“I have a daughter,” Heyes’ voice tightened. “We had two, but my eldest daughter was killed by somebody aiming at me. Abi wouldn’t let me near her, or Anya, after that. She was terrified something would happen to her. It didn’t end well.”   
David scratched his forehead distractedly. “I can see why. She’s back? Is your daughter there too?”  
Heyes shook his head. “No. Just Abi. She came to help.”  
“Well Hannibal, what you have described would be a tumultuous emotional experience for anyone, let alone somebody already traumatized. A woman with that kind of pull on you would certainly not help your dreams.” He paused thoughtfully. “I’m sorry to ask you this, but are you sure you were asleep?”  
“OF COURSE I WAS! WHAT KIND OF MAN DO YOU THINK I AM?” his voice dropped almost to a whimper. “I’d never, ever hurt her. I didn’t think I was capable of hurting any woman, but to hurt Abi? We might have had our ups and downs, but she’s special. We have a connection – to hurt her is just the lowest I’ve ever been. Kenny once said he didn’t think I was ready to be released. He was right, wasn’t he? I’m a danger to normal people.”   
“The governor wouldn’t have released you unless he was absolutely sure.” David tilted his head. “I had to ask, Hannibal. I’m only checking. You may have got over emotional if it ended acrimoniously.”   
“It did, but I’d never hurt her deliberately. I didn’t want to lose them, but she was adamant, so I left. She wrote to me in prison and we got kinda close again. When I didn’t want to live Anya’s picture was all that kept me going.”   
David tapped his fingers distractedly on the desk. “Tell me about this dream.”  
“It was Doc Morin again, I saw him being murdered, over and over again until it drove me mad. I felt somebody touch me and it turned into a fight. It was all so real. It was just like I was back there.” Heyes’ voice rasped with emotion. “The touch was Abi. She stayed with me even though I half strangled her. I heard her voice telling me to ask the Doc what he wants. I did. The dream slowed down. He showed me Harris’ arm and the tattoo. A man with a tattoo like that was seen around here when Beth was hurt. He showed me.”  
David nodded thoughtfully. “So when you engaged with the dream it was better?”  
“I guess...” Heyes replied uncertainly.   
“Well, the mind is a very tricky thing, and we understand surprisingly little about it. I have ordered a couple of books, but they haven’t arrived yet.” He gave Heyes a reassuring smile. “Until they do, we’re feeling our way, but if it felt better to face the dreams, I’d do it. Let’s see how it goes. I can’t see that it’d be any worse than not doing anything. Just one thing, I think you should sleep alone for the time being, until your subconscious manages to iron out the wrinkles it’s working on. Tell Abi to sleep in her own room.”  
Heyes’ eyes widened. “She does sleep in her own room. I don’t know what kind of woman you think I’d get involved with, but she isn’t the type to just jump into bed with me after all this time.”  
“So you’re not involved with her?”  
“I wouldn’t say that, it’s complicated. To see somebody like that after all this time. It’s hard.”  
“I suppose,” mused David. “You probably spent all night talking, and then just fell asleep.”  
A vision of a bedraggled Abigail sitting in the horse trough flashed through Heyes’ mind. “No... I wouldn’t say we talked too much last night either.”  
“Just make sure you sleep alone until we work this out, eh, Hannibal?”  
Irritation flashed in Heyes’ eyes. “I told you! She’s not easy. She slept in her own room. We haven’t restarted a relationship.” He stared off pensively. “Nobody who met her would ever say she’s easy.”  
“Where is she now?”  
“The brothel.”  
David arched his eyebrows. “The brothel!?” He let out a snort. “I’m trying to help, Hannibal, but have you listened to yourself? She doesn’t sound like a healthy influence.”   
“She used to be a Pinkerton. She’s trying to find out about the stranger with the tattoo. That’s why she came; to help. Somebody’s hurting people close to us, and she’s worried about it affecting our daughter. She’s as smart as you are, David, and strong–minded. She was a real good detective.”  
David rubbed his temples. This consultation was far from ordinary. “A law woman? I didn’t even know they existed.”  
“Neither did we, I guess that’s why Allan Pinkerton sent one after us.”  
David dropped his pen and sat back with a bemused smile. “Didn’t work, huh?”  
Heyes gave him a flicker of a smile. “No.”  
David chuckled. “I’d be a lot happier if I could see her. Being strong minded doesn’t protect you from injury.”  
“I’ll try. Truly I will.” Heyes rubbed his face with both hands. “Do you think I’ll ever be normal again?   
“Hannibal, you’re normal now. This is how normal people react to trauma. You just need time and support. Let’s see how you do engaging with the dreams, and keep up the stretching.” David gave him a meaningful look. “If you feel it’s all getting too much for you, you must come and see me again. This is going to throw up some very intense feelings for you and that may add to the dreams. We can only play it by ear.”  
“Can't you just give me a stronger sleeping dosage?” Hannibal asked hopefully. “One that will block out these nightmares?”  
David shook his head. “No.”  
Heyes slumped looking totally crestfallen. “Why not?” He was almost pleading. “I'm scared to go to sleep David! I'm scared of what....” His voice caught and he stopped talking, unable to continue.  
David's heart went out to him but he remained adamant. “The nightmares are the natural healing process Hannibal. It's your mind's way of working things out. The more sedative I give you, the harder your mind will fight against it and ultimately we would lose the battle. I'll continue to give you enough sedative so that you can sleep but I'm afraid we have to just let these nightmares run their course.”  
Heyes continued to sit silently as this bad news settled in. He felt like he wanted to cry—again. He felt so worn out. But even with that, he had to admit that what David was saying made sense. He was just going to have to ride them out. He sent forth a deep, heart wrenching sigh and then nodded acquiescence.   
“David, what about Randa?”  
The doctor bit into his lip. “I think you need to deal with Abi before you turn your attentions to Randa. Although you say you’re not in a relationship with her, her appearance here has clearly had a huge impact on you. There seems to be unfinished business, and speaking as a friend and a relative of Randa’s, she deserves to know where she stands before she gets in too deep. I sense that you’re not sure what you want either.”  
Heyes gave another huge sigh. Sometimes these consultations were more painful than the physical poking and prodding! “Randa is wonderful. She’s beautiful, reassuring, and steady – everything a man could want.”  
“But?” asked David.  
“Abi is the mother of my child and she’s also very lovely.” Dark, lost eyes stared at the doctor, “And she’s exciting, unpredictable and clever. She challenges me in a way nobody else does.”  
David gave a wry smile. “That’s not the way most men describe the mother of their children, Hannibal. There’s unfinished business there. Please don’t hurt Randa. She’s just getting over her husband. If you’re not available, that’s fine, but you have to find a way to let her know.” David sat back in his chair and scrutinized his friend for a few moments; there was one more question he needed to ask. “You seem to be having your fair share of women problems, does that mean that your other problem has resolved itself?”  
Heyes swallowed nervously. “What other problem?”  
David sent him a very good rendition of 'the look'. “Are we going to start playing games now Hannibal? You know exactly what I'm talking about.”  
Heyes shifted uncomfortably. “No,” he finally admitted. “I still can't....well...with a woman. Which is another reason why it's ridiculous that you would think that me and Abi were....well. I don't really feel like humiliating myself even more than I already have!”  
“Have you tried?” David asked.  
“What? Humiliating myself?”  
“NO!” David frowned at him. “Have you tried being with a woman?”  
“No,” Heyes answered. “Like I said; I don't want to humiliate myself even more.”  
The doctor nodded his understanding. “How about when you're alone? Are you able to become aroused and then take it through to completion?”  
“Well...when I'm alone...yeah,” Heyes was mumbling; this line of questioning was making him very uncomfortable. “But what good is that? It's not...real. It's just necessity.”  
“Yes, but it re-affirms that your problem is not physical,” David explained. “it's emotional. You just need to relax and give yourself some time. The more you worry about it, the more stressed out you will become and the less likely that you'll be successful.” He smiled. “Considering everything that is going on in your life right now it would seem that the best course of action on all levels would be to take things slowly until you've had a chance to sort out what you really want. Alright?”  
“Yeah, alright David,” Heyes agreed. “I will.”  
“Good.”

Heyes watched the veiled woman make her way onto the street from the back of the Black Rose. He let her cross the road, and walk a few hundred yards before he fell in behind her, only catching up with her once she turned the corner. “That didn’t take long,” he murmured.  
Abigail kept walking as Heyes caught up and walked alongside her. “Yes, Molly may have been a favourite of his, but the feelings weren’t reciprocated. I told her I was his wife and showed her my face. For ten dollars she sang like a bird. She’d have told me his birth weight if she’d known it.”  
“Was it Harris?” asked Heyes.  
“He called himself 'Mitch'. He had a thing for knives, and talked about having gotten away with murder, as though that would endear him to the poor woman. He frightened her.”  
Heyes sighed. “So there was nothing to prove he was Harris?”  
“The tattoo might, and he talked about his childhood in Sheridan. The man’s parents came from Yorkshire in England, and they moved West about 1870. He had two brothers and one surviving sister, having lost the youngest to scarlet fever at the age of eight. His father was a miner looking for a better life, but they were dirt poor. It would appear they didn’t find what they were looking for.”   
She turned her head to him, her dark eyes burning through the veil. “Whoever he is, he’s a suspect and criminals are often stupid – they’ll change their name, but give intimate details about their personal life which destroys the alias. Some things are clear though, he was passing through town, he was violent with Molly, and talked about criminal connections; he had money to flash with no obvious means of support, and he was heading for Missouri to see a man about some business. If there’d been any other itinerant in town the girls there would have known about it. There wasn’t anyone else like him. The other visitors to the brothel all worked and have a reason to be here. Harris’ past should be easy enough to find out, but we need to keep an open mind in case it’s not him.”  
“It could have been someone working in town, Abi. We don’t know it was this ‘Mitch,’” Heyes pointed out. “and why would Harris be after Beth? It doesn't make any sense.”  
“True, but if the real suspect’s still around, he’ll probably try again. He doesn’t know Beth’s gone. We have to stay alert.” She shrugged. “Sometimes you just have to go on instinct. Mitch was an aggressive drifter with money to burn, who hot-footed it after a second, failed attempt on Beth. He’s worth a look, and I have a direction of travel.”   
Heyes smiled in admiration. “You haven’t lost it, Abi.”  
“It’s not hard. Those women have had hard lives and get treated like lepers. If somebody treats them like an equal, they’re grateful. I’m just glad I got there before Harry muddied the waters. What does the idiot mean when he says he doesn’t rely on common sense?”  
They walked along in silence for a few minutes before Abigail spoke. “Why did you meet me?”  
“I guess I was worried you might head to the railroad station.”   
“I could have done that while you were in the doctor’s.”  
Heyes’ brows gathered in thought. “I guessed you wouldn’t resist getting the better of Harry, even if you only sent us a telegram.”  
She gave him one of her lopsided smiles. “I suppose you still know me. I can’t resist a challenge.”  
“I’m... not so up for them right now, but who knows, maybe with time?”  
“Yes,” she whispered. “Maybe with time.”  
“Abi, the doctor wants to see you, to make sure you’re all right. I told him about you, and us.”  
Her head snapped towards him. “You were only supposed to tell him about your dreams.”  
“I don’t hide anymore, Abi. I know you don’t want the world to know about Anya, but he’s my doctor and he has to keep it confidential. Please, come with me. I’m worried sick about you.”  
“I don’t need a doctor, Mr. Heyes. I only have a few bruises.”  
He laid a hand on her forearm. “Abi, humour me. I hurt you, at least let me hear you’re doing fine from a professional. Please, just drop the stubborn for once. I’m not myself right now and I need David to tell me I didn’t do anything too serious.”  
She gave a groan. “I don’t need a doctor, but if it helps...”  
“It’ll help,” Heyes stated, determinedly.   
“Fine. I’ll see him, but then I want to get back. I was up most of the night. I am really tired. I think we’re both getting too old for this.”  
“You’re not old, Abi, you look exactly the same. That’s one of the things that shocked me; it was like all those years never happened.”  
He heard a gentle chuckle from behind the veil. “Of course I’ve changed.”  
Heyes shook his head. “Nope, you’re still a beauty, Abi. You always were. I couldn’t quite believe my luck when I knew you were interested.”  
“You were trying your luck?” Surprise lightened her voice. “You sounded so sure of yourself.”  
“I was sure I wanted to try,” Heyes chortled, “but I thought you’d either flatten me or lock me up. It was worth the risk, though.”   
“So I wasn’t special? I was just one of a series with whom you pushed your luck?”  
They stopped, Heyes pulling her around to face him. “I knew you were too good for me, that’s all. I now realize I pushed my luck in everything, as though life owed me whatever I wanted. That’s why I became a criminal, when the universe didn’t deliver, I just took it. I was such an arrogant ass, Abi, wasn’t I?”   
“Gloriously so,” he could just see her plush lips curl up in a thoughtful smile behind the veil. “I thought life owed me too; that my life would be just like any other happy woman. I’d meet a man I loved, marry and have children, and watch then grow up in an extended family. I couldn’t cope when I lost my husband, father and baby in quick succession. My life was empty and meaningless and I used work to fill the void. Then everything changed.”   
Heyes reached out and took her hand. “Everything did. I want to meet her, Abi.” He felt her tense, but she didn’t pull her hand away. “Please. Just once.”  
“You’re on parole, Mr. Heyes.”  
He fixed her with dark eyes hardening with determination. “I can travel, as long I sign in with the local sheriff. Just a visit, please, Abi.”  
Her voice wavered. “If you didn’t tell her who you were, I suppose it could work...”  
“Yes! I won’t tell her anything,” he tightened his grip, urging her on. “Please, Abi. She was my only reason to keep living. Let me see her as flesh and blood, just once.”   
“You promise me you won’t tell her who you are? She’s only ten and she thinks her father died when she was a baby. It would be too much for her to cope with at her age.” Abigail pressed. “I told you I’d tell her when she’s old enough, and I meant it, but not yet.”  
“Anything. I’ll be a family friend, a distant relative – damn it, I’ll be the man who delivers your groceries if I have to. Just let me meet her. Seeing Kenny and Jesse with their daughters has really focused my mind. I know I’ll never be a proper father, but let me have a small memory of her, something real.”   
Abigail gave a curt nod. “Fine, when this is all over, you can meet her.”  
Heyes’ eyes widened. “You promise me?”  
“I promise.”  
“Oh Abi,” he pulled her fingers up to his lips and kissed them, an ember igniting in his dark eyes. He suddenly caught a movement behind her and he dropped her hand like a stone. She turned to see Randa standing stiffly in the street, her eyes fixed on Heyes.   
Abigail pulled her hand away. “It’s by no means certain that you’ll never be a proper father, Mr. Heyes. It would appear that life has a lot more planned for you. Let’s get back to the Double J. I don’t really want to see a doctor, and you don’t need any more complications.”  
“Abi, I haven’t... I’ve only seen her a few times. I never thought I’d see you again.”  
Abigail shook her head, her face unreadable under the veil. “I have no call on you, Mr Heyes. I’ve already told you that. Now, take me back. I need to sleep. I haven’t spent an undisturbed night for at least four days, what with one thing and another. I don’t think seeing the doctor will be of much help to either of us.”

“Hannibal!”  
Heyes groaned quietly, his shoulders slumping at the sound of the scurrying footsteps behind him. Another few yards and they would have been safely driving away. He had thought they were in the clear, the wagon was two streets away from the Gibson place and Randa had no reason to come this far from the mercantile area – but it appeared that she’d had other ideas, and had a motivation of her own.  
“She clearly wants to speak to you,” murmured Abigail. She turned to face the scurrying woman with a smile. “Randa? How are you?”  
Heyes shuffled uncomfortably. “Hi,” he mumbled.   
She darted quizzical eyes one from the other. “Abi? That’s you? Why are you hiding behind that thing? You have such a pretty face. It’s not like you’re in deep mourning or anything,” she paused, embarrassment flooding her face with colour. “Oh! You were wearing a black skirt when I met you; add that black jacket and that veil... You’re not, are you? I knew you were a widow, but I didn’t know it was so recent. I’m so sorry, I just didn’t think.”  
Abigail shook her head. “I’m not a recent widow. He died many years ago whilst I was pregnant, and my daughter is ten now. I’m wearing black because it’s practical for travelling, and I’m wearing a veil because of this,” she lifted the fabric to expose her back eye and quickly dropped it again. “I came in to town to collect a telegram and a few things, but I just couldn’t bear to have everyone looking at me.”  
“What on earth happened to you!?” Randa exclaimed.  
“Animals – big, lumbering, stubborn animals,” muttered Abigail, wryly. “I’m just not used to being around them, and they’re not very forgiving when somebody is stupid enough to get between them and their food. I learned the lesson the hard way. They make those stalls out of especially hard wood, don’t they?”  
Randa bit into her lip. “Oh, my goodness! Are you all right?”  
“I’m perfectly fine, I just look bad, and poor Mr. Heyes is beside himself because he took me up on my offer to help. He blames himself – in fact he was positively begging me to go to see the doctor. I think he steered our walk in the direction of the doctor’s house, hoping his powers of persuasion would win out over my stubbornness. Do you know he had hold of my hand not five minutes ago, pleading with me to go and waste the Doctor’s time?”  
Randa’s taught stance relaxed, before she glanced at Heyes. “It’s not a waste of time. That eye’s dreadful – it’s closing up.” She walked over and linked an arm through Abigail’s. “Hannibal? Take her other arm, I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.” Heyes hung back reluctantly until Randa’s frown spurred him into action. “Hannibal? She needs to see the doctor, tell her.”   
“I tried,” he muttered, ineffectually.  
Randa’s frown blossomed into full blown curiosity. “Tell her again.” She tightened her grip on Abigail’s arm and guided her in the direction of the Gibson place. “Abigail, if you won’t do it for yourself, then do it for Hannibal. He looks as guilty as a bear cub with a honey pot.”  
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, all this fuss about nothing,” Abigail huffed. “Randa, I really don’t think I need this, but I don’t want to be churlish. You’re as bossy as I am.”  
“I’ll take that as a compliment, Abi,” giggled Randa. “I suspect we may share a few traits.”  
“Yes,” Abigail allowed herself to be led back the way she came. “I suspect we share a lot more than that.”

David ushered the woman to a seat with a smile.  
“Can I stay,” asked Heyes.  
“No,” David replied, gently, but firmly. “I see patients alone.”  
Abigail lifted the veil revealing a purple eye, the congestion forcing the eyelid closed beneath pinching, tight flesh relieved only by the gaping gash being forced open by the swelling. “I don’t mind if he stays. I have no secrets.” She gave a coy smile. “Actually, I have a lot of secrets, but none from Mr. Heyes.”  
“I mind. I see all patients alone,” David smiled patiently. “Some husbands object to that, so I tell them they should consult a doctor in another town. I have a blanket policy on that, with a few exceptions related to children or people who may genuinely need support.”  
“He’s not my husband, but I suspect that Mr. Heyes is using this as an opportunity to hide, rather than stopping me from telling you anything about him,” she gave a lopsided grin, reading the doctor’s motives. “Besides, he couldn’t control me in any case, and he knows it.”   
David grinned. There was an engaging liveliness about this woman, even when injured. “Well, he’ll have to allow himself to be entertained in the kitchen. I want to see you alone.”  
Heyes’ face fell. The last thing he wanted was to sit in that kitchen with Randa and Tricia, but unless he was to be blatantly graceless, he would just have to face it. Being rude to Abi was one thing. Part of him felt comfortable enough with her to lash out with a cruel comment; it was almost like family, knowing there was a foundation of compassion and understanding, but Randa was different. All she knew was the man in front of her, and he was rapidly turning into a man with all the emotional intelligence of a box of doorknobs.   
“See you later, Hannibal.” David steered him to the hallway, closing the door firmly behind him. “Camomile tea is calming. Ask Tricia for some.”

David narrowed his eyes leaning over to examine the cut. “That needs stitches.”  
“Are you sure?”   
David gave a wry smile. “Do I strike you as the kind of man who sounds uncertain?” He strode over and lit a lamp before pulling the drapes closed. “It’s likely to be a bad scar unless we close the wound.” He placed a hand under her chin, moving the oil lamp in front of her face, staring into her eyes. “The pupil reaction seems fine. Let me see that neck.” He ran gentle fingers over her throat, scrutinizing the bruises. “Do you hurt anywhere else?”  
“No.”  
He walked over and dragged the curtains back open, before approaching the cabinet and removing a kidney bowl and various pieces of equipment. “How squeamish are you, Mrs. Stewart?”  
“About the same as you are, I suppose.”  
David turned with a smile. “Do you mind removing your clothes? I want to make sure you’re not hurt anywhere else.”  
Abigail tilted her head in challenge. “I mind a great deal, but I’ll do it to help convince you that Mr. Heyes is no woman beater. He didn’t assault me, Doctor Gibson. I was caught up in one of his nightmares and nothing more. I have known him for a very long time and he’s not capable of hurting a woman in anger. Besides, do you really think Jessie would tolerate that? Do you think I would? Let me tell you, it’d be a brave man who raised his hand to me in a relationship. It doesn’t matter how big they are, they all have to sleep sometime.”  
“Brave words, but I’ve heard similar things from beaten wives in the past.” He shrugged. “Well, maybe not the part about them all having to sleep, that seems to be a somewhat foolhardy stance around a violent man.”  
“Mr. Heyes is not violent around women, and I’m not foolhardy. A partner who hurt me would have to fear for his life, Doctor. I would make him suffer, make no mistake about that.”  
“Mrs. Stewart, I’m very fond of Hannibal, but he ran a gang of outlaws, and his prison records show that he was frequently involved in fights. I also happen to know that he practically beat another inmate to death, and probably would have done so if the guards hadn’t stepped in.”  
Abigail nodded. “You forget I knew him as an active criminal, and not as a man seeking amnesty, or rebuilding his life after serving his sentence. I doubt anyone was harder on him than me, but I saw the waste of his potential, and I frequently became exasperated with him. I also witnessed his ability to put parts of himself into compartments. He learned how to survive in any circumstances, but the way he might behave in a prison is not the same way he would behave in anybody’s home. His versatility is part of his intelligence, and is a skill in itself.”  
“So? He can control his behaviour, but that can change, especially when fuelled by a temper. I understand your relationship with him ended badly.”  
Visions of last night’s gurgling, freezing water flooded through her memory. “Yes, I fully admit that I can provoke him, and I have done many times, but he has never hurt me. I’d go further than that, he never would. He’s beside himself over this. I didn’t want to come here; I’m here more for his sake than mine.”   
“Yet you sent him away, and prevented him from seeing his daughter?”  
Abigail set her jaw in challenge. “Doctor Gibson, I saw my oldest daughter blasted to pieces in front of my eyes. He had enemies, and maybe he still has. I’m protecting Anya from them, not him. That episode affected me very deeply. It’s why I’ve come to help the Jordans'.”  
David’s eyebrows gathered in curiosity. “I’d have thought that seeing something like that would make you more likely to avoid potential danger. You could have simply offered a safe haven.”  
“I got them out of here in a way which prevented them from being followed. Maybe I’m over cautious in relation to Anya, it may be a family matter, but it might also be connected to Jed, and therefore vicariously to Mr. Heyes and anyone connected to him. In any case, I know how it feels to see your daughter covered in her own blood. I can help them in a way nobody else can. Nobody expects a woman to be investigating.” Abigail gave a firm nod. “I’m probably over thinking things, but I don’t just come to a conclusion and follow it. I look at all the angles and try to consider every possibility. I need to see evidence before I’m happy I know what’s going on. So far all we know is that somebody seems intent on hurting Beth Jordan.”  
David sighed. “At least you got them out of here, I understand you’ve just come from the brothel?”  
“Yes, and there was a fairly good suspect frequenting the place, so we’re making headway already. Do you really think I’d seek out a violent man, Doctor,” she gave a wicked twinkle, “without a gun in my hand? I know you will have seen women beaten by their husbands, but I can assure you that it’d be a cold day in hell before I’d allow myself to become one of them.”   
He nodded, holding her gaze. “Keep your dress on, Mrs. Stewart. You’ve convinced me. You’re very protective of him, aren’t you?”  
“At the moment, yes, he needs support, and I’m afraid I’ve caused him anguish by turning up. That was really not my intention. This is not about me at all. I was worried our daughter might be next.”  
David dabbed iodine over the wound. “It’s a shock for sure, but each time he’s pushed he rises to the challenge and comes out of it a little stronger. I’m sure he’ll do the same this time.” He raised concerned eyes, looking through the wall towards the kitchen, “probably.”  
Abigail flinched at the needle piercing the already delicate flesh. “Doctor Gibson, I want to reassure you that I’m not here to disrupt his life. He has told me that any feelings he had are all firmly in the past. I’m sure he’ll sort his head out soon, especially when I’m gone.”  
David tied off the first stitch. “He told you that?”  
“More or less.”  
He started on the second stitch. “How do you feel about that?”  
“I won’t lie to you doctor, it hurts,” she sucked in a breath as the wound tightened. “But I told him to go, so I can’t complain if he goes off and builds a new life. If you really care for someone, you have to wish them well, don’t you?”  
The second stitch was completed and the thread was neatly clipped away. “Do you?”  
She gave a heartfelt sigh. “Yes – you do, and you have to find a way to make that work, no matter how you feel.”  
He dragged up a chair, observing the woman with professional scrutiny. Under the wounds she was a beautiful woman, with curly, dark hair, high cheekbones, and a plush, sensual mouth. A thoughtful, almond-shaped, black eye was set beside the injured partner. “That’s very noble of you. Most of us are too concerned with ourselves to think like that.”  
“It’s been a long time, Doctor. My daughter is now ten. When things turn bad you do what you can to move on. That was my strategy; it’s not noble to find a way to deal with life’s vicissitudes. It’s sensible.”  
David clasped his hands thoughtfully in front of him, rubbing his thumbs together. “But you did move on? You found someone else?”  
“No, Doctor. I lived a very independent life, one which I was reluctant to give up by handing my life over to man. I have strong views, quite radical, in fact. I believe that men and woman are equal; different – but equal. I think we should have the right to vote, work, control our fertility, and be as educated as any man. I would need a partner in life, not just a husband. He would have to be proud of me for standing up for my beliefs, not just tolerate me. I’ve never found that man.”  
“Not even in Hannibal?”  
Her mouth set in determination. “Does it matter? He and I are both unusual people. Maybe we come from the same pod, maybe not. It’s not an option. Our timing was bad, and now it’s too late. He’s moved on.”  
“Is it? It seems to me that you have another chance at life – both of you.”  
Abigail stood. “As much as I appreciate the time, Doctor, this has nothing to do with my eye, and I’m acutely aware that Mr. Heyes has been seeing your wife’s cousin. I’ll be out of the way as soon as I can, and the status quo will soon be restored.”  
David’s voice firmed. “Sit down, Mrs. Stewart. I’m seeing a patient, not a rival for the object of Randa’s affections. I see a wounded woman before me, not just an injured one, and I’d be no kind of doctor if I didn’t investigate that.” He watched surprise flicker over her face before she reluctantly took a seat. He smiled, proceeding more gently. “You told Hannibal to engage with his dreams. That tells me you are a woman who has fought her own demons. Do you still have nightmares?”  
She bit into her lip. “Yes, but I learned to control them.”  
“What do you dream about?”  
Her chest heaved with emotion. “I’ve killed. That never goes away.”  
His eyebrows arched in surprise. “You were a Pinkerton. You killed in your line of work?”  
Abigail nodded. “Except for one. I was beside my daughter when she was shot.” She stared at the floor, a sob catching on her voice. “I put a bullet in that man’s brain, and I see him almost every night, but I also get to see my Becky, so it’s not all bad...” She pulled herself together. “You can’t help me, Doctor. It’s just a scar, like those left by any injury. My friend is a very good doctor, and she has tried for years.”  
“She? Yes, I should have known you would know a female doctor.”  
“Do you disapprove?”  
“On the contrary. Physical strength is rarely required in my profession, and I agree with your view that men and women are different, but of equal value. They tend to have a natural empathy, which can be lacking amongst some of my male colleagues. I’d like to meet her.” He sat back then, smiling warmly. “In fact, I think anyone you allow into your life would be quite a singular individual.”   
“Flattery? Really?” Abigail’s brow furrowed. “Since when was that a diagnostic tool?”  
David chuckled. “You’re too smart to fall for it, but I suspect you used it as a detective all the time. It doesn’t mean it’s not true, though. I’m interested in how you’ve managed these night horrors. You strike me as being similar to Hannibal, but further down the line. Who taught you to face the dreams head on?”  
“My mother,” she replied, wistfully. “When my sister died as an infant I had nightmares, and she told me to turn and face the next dream. They changed very quickly after that. Instead of seeing her dragged off to a grave, I found I could see her, and speak to her. Then they faded away altogether.”  
“Is your mother still supportive?”  
Abigail stiffened. “I have no family. I lost my husband, father and baby in quick succession. We engaged the Pinkerton agency to find my father’s murderer, and I found the investigation helped fill the void they left. Stopping anyone else dying like my father gave my life some meaning, and Alan Pinkerton found me easier to control if he employed me, rather than have me meddle on the sidelines.” She shrugged uneasily. “My mother and sisters thought I worked as a governess, which was barely tolerated, but when they found out I had actually been a detective, and had an illegitimate child with a criminal, they were horrified.” She clasped her hands tightly together. “They accepted that, but then I fell pregnant again, and it was a step too far. I am alone except for my friends and daughter.”  
David nodded. “An interesting turn of phrase that; ‘alone except for my friends and daughter?’ There’s a big hole in your life?”  
“You’d make a good detective, Doctor Gibson.” Abigail sat back and folded her arms. “You pick up on such little things.”  
“They’re not such different skill sets, Mrs. Stewart. We both look at all the evidence to come to a conclusion. Do you want to hear mine?”  
Curiosity got the better of her and an intrigued smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Go on then. Tell me.”  
“You and Hannibal have a great deal in common. You are intelligent people, with enough strength of character to be highly individual; neither of you seek the approval of others, and march firmly to the beat of your own drums. You are logical, analytical, and able to juggle conflicting demands so quickly you can leave others floundering in your wake. To see you two clash must have been quite impressive.” He leaned back in his seat and scrutinized her closely. “There are other similarities. You filled the emotional void left by the tragic loss of loved ones by throwing yourselves into a series of challenges, and use those to blot out complex emotional problems rather than deal with them, but they still simmer under the surface. Coincidentally, you both found crime to be stimulating, but you sought out different perspectives. You are both natural leaders, with the need to be pushed mentally. Danger attracts you in the same way others are repelled by it, some would even call you ‘thrill seekers.’” David paused, narrowing his eyes. “And lastly, you both have a deep need for a loyal and understanding partner. Hannibal has Jed. Who do you have, Abigail? I think you found that in your late husband, and have been too afraid to open up ever since, in case you get hurt again.” He sat back. “I suspect some people think you’re cold. You’re actually very vulnerable, and hiding behind a protective shell.”  
He watched the last comment land, her controlled front dissipating for a moment before he continued. “Jed is moving on, and Hannibal knows that. He’s uncertain right now, but we both know he’ll be looking for a new partner in the near future. I can see that causes you pain, Abigail. You have your own ghosts, and I’m concerned about how all of this will affect you.”  
“All kinds of things cause pain in life, Doctor Gibson, you still have to get on with it. I’ll be gone soon. I have a direction of travel for the suspect and I’m following that up.”  
David’s eyebrows shot up. “On your own?”  
She nodded. “Yes, Doctor Gibson. I spent many years doing just that.”  
“I don’t suppose there’s anything I can say to stop you?”  
She shook her head. “Nope.”  
“Then all I’ll say is that those stitches must come out in ten to fourteen days. Any doctor can remove them. Make sure it’s done.” He stretched out a hand. “It’s been a pleasure, Mrs. Stewart. If I can ever be of any help in the future please don’t hesitate to contact me. I do hope you’ll think long and hard about living a solitary life. You strike me as a lonely woman.”

Heyes quietly came out of David's office and then just stood there for a moment to collect his thoughts—and his courage. He could hear Tricia and Miranda talking together down in the kitchen and he knew he would have to go that way either to leave or to wait. Heavy sigh; why did life have to get so complicated? Did Miranda pick up on anything? Did she know? Woman's intuition and all that, goodness knows Jesse could never get away with anything! If she didn't know, should Heyes tell her? But tell her what? Heyes didn't even know himself what was going on—this was crazy!  
Another sigh and then both hands brushing through his hair. Hmm, at least he had hair now, that was something to be thankful for. Then he started to move forward and just about had a heart attack when Nathan suddenly came charging down the hallway from behind on his way from his bedroom to the kitchen. He had a toy wooden horse in his hand that he was galloping through the air and making a fair amount of noise about it!

“Giddy up, giddy up!” came the childish high-pitched expletive. “I'm the sheriff and I'm running down those outlaws! Watch out Han'bul! There's outlaws!”

Heyes gave a little bit of an ironic laugh as he brought himself down off the figurative ceiling. “There ya' go Sheriff Nathan!” Heyes called after the energetic child. “You go get 'em!”

The boy disappeared into the kitchen and there were sounds of dishes clattering and chairs scraping along with little boy feet galloping around the table.

“Oh Nathan!” came Tricia's reprimand. “Be careful—watch what you're doing! You know you not suppose to run in the house!”

“But I'm after the outlaws Momma!”

And then Heyes quickly stepped aside as the little hurricane on two feet came charging down the hallway again and with the slamming of a door, disappeared back into his bedroom. Heyes leaned back against the wall for a moment and gave a little bit of a chuckle at the boy's antics. A chilly autumn day—the child had to entertain himself somehow! Heyes sent another reluctant look towards the kitchen, gave yet another resigned sigh and continued on his way.  
Stepping out into the open room instantly both sets of dark blue eyes were upon him. Heyes smiled uncomfortably.

“Hummm, David wouldn't let me stay,” he explained.

“No,” Tricia agreed. “He does prefer to consult with patients in private.”

Heyes nodded. “Oh.”

There followed a moment of awkward silence. Both women were certainly curious as to how Mrs. Stewert had been so badly bruised up. Tricia especially had heard enough excuses from some of David's lady patients about how they got that black eye that Abi's story wasn't necessarily being believed. Neither ladies were about to broach the subject however; it was a private matter after all and David was a stickler for confidentiality. Tricia and Miranda exchanged glances and then looked over to the unfortunate male. Heyes just stood silently and for some reason, felt exposed.

“Hannibal,” Randa began. “I was just getting ready to head for home. Would you care to walk with me?”

“Oh,” Heyes swallowed. “I really should wait for Abi—ah, Mrs. Stewert. I'll need to take her back out to the ranch.”

“You know my house isn't far, it won't take long,” Randa persisted. “Please. I think we need to talk.”

“Oh,” Heyes repeated himself. He glanced at Tricia and she gave him an encouraging smile. “Yes, alright.”

Randa smiled and made her way over to the coat tree and Heyes helped her on with her cape and hat then turned to don his own outside gear.

“Thanks for lunch Tricia,” she said to her cousin. “I'll see you later.”

“Yes,” Tricia agreed pointedly. “I'm looking forward to it.”

Heyes smiled over at her, the hidden meaning there not being lost on him at all. He took his hat and shoved it down onto his head, nodded a farewell to Tricia and then opened the door for him and Randa to leave.  
It was cold out today; the sky gray and heavy, but no rain—not yet. Or maybe it would snow, it felt cold enough. There had been quite a frost that morning and some of it still lingered in the more shaded areas against the buildings and down back lanes. Heyes smiled at the memory of Abi in the water trough. That really had been mean of him and even though she had been asking for it he'd be feeling some contrition by this time, if it hadn't been for the fact that she had pulled him in after her. But at least they had broken the ice.  
But now, after what had happened during the night—and earlier on today. Everything was in such a jumble again! Heyes wasn't used to feeling confused where women were concerned. This was a new experience for him and he really didn't like it much. But David was right; he didn't know what he wanted and it wasn't fair to lead Miranda on like this. He had just resolved himself to opening up conversation along those lines when Miranda herself beat him to it.

“William was the love of my life,” she stated bluntly and Heyes felt his heart skip a beat. Why? “I still miss him so terribly much.”

The couple were walking arm in arm and Heyes brought his other hand over to cup her one hand in both of his.

“Yes I know,” he admitted.

Miranda sighed. “I'm not ready for this Hannibal,” she told him quietly. “I like you very much and I want us to be friends but I don't think I'm ready for anything more than that. Not yet.”

Heyes felt like he was going to cry. Why? “Oh,” was all he was able to get out.

She smiled and looked up at him. “And I strongly suspect that you have been feeling much the same way.”

“Oh. Well....”

“You and Mrs. Stewert,” Randa continued on bravely. “she did a very good job of covering for you, but I saw that look of guilt flash across your face. You have history don't you; unfinished business?” then she really smiled. “Even though she calls you 'Mr. Heyes'!”

“Yes,” Heyes admitted quietly.

Randa couldn't help the knife that went through her heart. Why? “Are you in love with her?”

“I don't know,” Heyes admitted. “I was, once—but that was so long ago now. And she ended it. She sent me letters while I was in prison and said things that caused me to wonder if we could start up again but....since she's been in town she has made it very clear that she's not interested. She truly is just here to help with Beth.”

Randa nodded, trying to fight the tightness in her throat. She had thought this would be easy; that she didn't really love this man, but now....or was that just loneliness—just ego?

“Well, perhaps she did come here thinking of starting things up again, but you were very rude to her out at the ranch; are you sure it wasn't you pushing her away?” Randa sighed and hesitated a moment and then resolved herself to asking the hard question. “If she wanted you to come back, would you go?”

Heyes sighed and stopping their slow progression he turned the lady towards him and cupped her face in his hand. Her cheeks were cold and she looked up at him with eyes that were sad and bright with emotion. Heyes felt torn—again! He was used to being the one in control, even with women but now he had two women on his hands who were not afraid to step up and take that control away from him. Abigail and Miranda were alike in so many ways and yet sooo different!

“I don't know,” he admitted again. “I love Abi, I always will but I don't know anymore if I still love her in that way. I'm so confused Miranda. I don't even know who I am anymore. These nightmares are driving me crazy and now all this stuff going on with Beth.” He shook his head, his torment showing plainly in his dark eyes. “I just don't know.”

She smiled sadly up at him, feeling her own heart breaking again, only this time it was for him. He looked so lost. Her hand mimicked his then by coming up and caressing his cold face in her warm palm. “Then I think it's best that we both back off, until we do know.”

Heyes dropped his eyes from hers. He didn't answer her; he didn't like it. Everybody was making decisions for him and he was being left out in the cold. Even if they were the right decisions it was just the fact that he wasn't the one making them!

Miranda brought his eyes up to look into hers again, and she smiled. “If William were still alive today,” she continued. “I would not leave him for you. I would look upon you and think; my what a handsome man he is...” Heyes grinned but his eyes remained sad. “....but that's as far as it would have gone. I don't want to make the mistake of committing myself to another man simply out of loneliness and I certainly wouldn't want you to do the same.   
“ And I certainly wouldn't want you to commit to me only to realize later that there's someone else you'd rather be with...if only you'd given it one more try.” The sadness in his eyes nearly choked her and she brought her hand down from his face and gently shook his arm. “C'mon Hannibal, don't look like that. You know this is the right thing to do. I'm not going anywhere. We can still be friends and if we both want to take things to the next step later on, well......”

Heyes smiled at her and then nodded. “Yes, alright.” Then they went arm in arm again and continued to walk to Miranda's new house. “Does this mean our date for the Thanksgiving dance is off?”

Miranda laughed. “No!” she teased. “I still want to go. Just... no expectations. And if your friend Abi is there and you want to dance with her, well now you can feel free to do so.”

Heyes nodded again and the couple continued their walk in silence. They reached Randa's little house and Heyes walked her up the front steps. She turned the knob of the front door and was just about to enter when Heyes put a hand on her arm, stopping her. She looked up at him and their eyes met and held.

“I do love you, you know,” Heyes told her quietly, sadly.

“I know,” she whispered. “but this is something you need to work out. This is important.”

Heyes leaned down and kissed her, quietly, softly. She returned it and then pulled away. She smiled up at him and turning, she walked into her home and closed the door.  
Heyes stood on the front porch for a few moments, feeling wretched. He was in love with two different women at the same time and both of them had basically pushed him away and given permission for him to begin courting the other! How was this fair? How come he didn't get any say? He shook his head in resentful futility and then turned and clomped down the steps to head back to David's place. Now he had to face Abi! Oh God—could this day get any worse?  
Inside the small house, Randa quietly removed her cape and hat and went over to the stove. She struck a match and lit the tinder inside the belly of it and prepared to make herself a pot of tea. Yes, some tea would go down really nice right now—something to take the chill off.  
She picked up the kettle and walked over to the sink and began to pump some water into the pot and returned it to the top of the stove. She could already feel the warmth beginning to rise up—it wouldn't take long for the water to heat and she really could do with a cup of tea right now.  
She got the tin of biscuits down from the shelf, the ones that Belle had given to her last week; and they were very good too. Belle was such a kind woman and now all this turmoil going on in their family. That just wasn't right. She took down a saucer and a tea cup and a little plate to put the biscuits on and set everything down on the table. She could really feel the warmth from the stove now and soon the kettle began to whistle. She got her tea pot down and poured a little of the hot water into it, then swished the water around for a moment to warm the pot and dumped the water into the sink.  
She opened up the tin of tea leaves and put some inside the ball then put the ball inside the tea pot and filled it with hot water. She stood there, staring into space, waiting for the tea to steep. She wasn't thinking about anything, she couldn't focus her mind on anything; she just stared. After a few moments she picked up a pot holder in order to grab the hot tea pot and she moved over to the table and poured herself a cup. She set the pot down and pulled the tea cozy over it to keep it warm and then settled into the chair and stared into space. She held the warm cup in both her hands, but she didn't drink, she didn't even look at it; she just stared into space.   
Then she started to cry.

Half way back to David's house Heyes decided to run a quick errand in town while he had the time and headed over to the telegraph office. They finally had a little bit more to go on as to a description of the assailant and he wanted to run is past Kenny to see if things matched up. Why get Harry to do it when Heyes was already in town? He didn't really know why it would be Harris who was causing all this trouble—it didn't make any sense to him and maybe his mind was just playing tricks on him. Wanting to make those people guilty, wanting to make them responsible so that he could have a reason to go on hating them; a reason to seek retaliation.  
But on the other hand, maybe it was something. Maybe his subconscious mind was trying to tell him, letting him know that he knew something that he didn't realize he knew. Or maybe Doc Morin was really haunting him, pushing him to seek justice, but then that could mean that all of this was interconnected and that didn't make sense either! Heyes groaned to himself. This was crazy! And Doc had said that life wasn't about seeking revenge, it was about learning and growing and moving on but was that really Doc talking to him or just the delusional rantings of a brain on the edge of death?  
Heyes sighed, shaking his head as he mumbled to himself. No wonder he was having nightmares! All of these questions swirling around him and then just as he was beginning to feel half way normal again, Abi shows up out of the blue! She always was upsetting to his equilibrium, but now her presence was sending him spiralling down into hurtful memories and old wounds that he had thought were healed over but were actually only hiding in wait.   
And then there was Miranda. She took his breath away whenever he looked at her, she was exciting and fun to be with and he was comfortable around her. He didn't have to be on guard with her all the time, wondering when the next confrontation was going to hit him square in the face. Always in a battle to see who was going to end up on top! He could relax with Randa.  
But Abigail! Oh Abigail! Not only was she the mother of his children but she was beautiful, brilliant—challenging. But always, constantly pushing him. He used to thrive on that, enjoyed it even. But now? Now he just felt worn out by it and yet drawn to it at the same time, like a moth to the flame.  
Now both of them had pushed him away. He knew they were right, that he needed time to sort things out but he still resented it all the same.  
Well, he thought to himself as he walked, his eyes focused on the ground; the only way to get to the bottom of all this was to take one step at a time. The suspected assailant had a dagger tattoo and his dream showed Harris with a dagger tattoo. Find out from Kenny if that fits Harris' description and then go from there. One step at a time. Hopefully the rest of it will eventually sort itself out!

Heyes twitched the reins, stimulating the horses into action. Abigail narrowed her eyes and watched the profile of a man who was clearly simmering quietly. She bit her tongue and faced forward, lifting her veil as soon as they were outside of the town.  
“Why did you do that?” Heyes suddenly demanded.  
Abigail frowned. “Do what?”  
“Cover for me.”  
A look of mystification washed over her face. “I didn’t cover for you. You didn’t hit me; you lashed out in your sleep. It was the truth.”  
“I’m not talking about that, you covered for me with Randa. She saw me kiss your hand, and you told her I was begging you to see the doctor. ”  
Abigail shrugged. “So?”  
Heyes huffed and puffed for a few minutes before he bit the bullet and got to the point. “Why the hell would you make it all right for me to see another woman!?”  
“Oh, that,” Abigail frowned. “I was trying to help. You’ve clearly been seeing her. I didn’t want to cause you any more pain. I was just trying to smooth things over for you.”  
Heyes scowled. “How would you feel if I was to set you up with another man?”  
Abigail turned to face him. “What’s that got to do with anything? Who?” A thought struck her right between the eyes. “It’d better not be Harry! Is that why he was so clingy with those clammy hands of his? I’d rather have the horse trough.”  
“Do you know how you made me feel?”   
Abigail shook her head in confusion. “What are you talking about? You’ve been seeing a woman, that’s not a crime. It’s been ten years, Mr. Heyes, I would expect you to move on. I don’t see any reason why your relationship with Randa should be hurt by me. I want you to be happy.”  
“It’s that easy for you, huh?”  
“Easy?”  
“Yes,” Heyes snapped. “You just hand me over to another woman, and you have no reason to feel guilty.”  
“You still have the power to confound me, Mr. Heyes. What are you wittering on about? You’re going through a tough time and I’m trying to iron things out for you. You don’t need any more complications. And in answer to your question, no – I don’t feel guilty. I’ve done the best for my daughter, and now I’m trying to do the best for you, and your friends.”   
“You’ve got it all worked out, haven’t you? Who is he?”  
Abigail let out a gasp of disbelief. “He? What on earth are you talking about?”  
“I’m sure Kid will only meet Hester when he arrives in Topeka, but you’ve clearly got a man. You’ve moved on, and you’re making sure I do the same.”  
“I don’t have a man. I teach piano and French from home, and I bring up Anya. That’s it.”  
“That’s not all. Who is he?” growled Heyes.  
“Mr. Heyes, I’m trying to help. Why are you so angry at me?”  
Heyes shuffled the reins through his fingers. “Why have you never said it in English?”  
“Said what?”  
“There was a Scotsman in prison; he translated the Gaelic in your letters. Why? You called me ‘my love,’ but you haven’t said it since. It’s like you were hiding it from me... or were you hiding it from him? Didn’t you mean it?”  
Abigail laid a gentle hand on him arm. “I have said it. I said it in that trough, of all places. It’s my language. Don’t you think that has more power for me than a second tongue? And no! I don’t have a man, nor have I had one. Why should that stop me from helping you?”  
Heyes paused. “There’s nobody?”  
Abigail scowled. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no. In any case, don’t you want me to be happy? I wish only the best for you. And whilst we’re on the subject, I told you I meant what I wrote, and you refused to reply. You’ve been impossible. You won’t talk, you don’t want me around, you don’t want me to leave... I doubt you’ve lived like a monk for the last ten years, and now you’re questioning me? You have a nerve.”  
“There’s been somebody. I know it.”  
“For heaven’s sake, I’ve never met anyone so intent on not listening. It’s like talking to a rock. No. There has not been anybody. I said I loved you in Gaelic. I meant it, but I tried to make it easy for you to get what you want because you’ve clearly moved on, and I want you to be happy. You’ve said nothing about how you feel about me, so I’ve had to read it in your behaviour, and it’s not good. I know where I stand. What do you want? I’m leaving tomorrow to track Mitch, so if you have something to say, you’d better get to the point. I probably won’t be back.”   
He turned to face her. “You can’t go tomorrow, Abi.”  
“You’re not the leader of a gang now, you have no say in it.”  
“Abi, I never could control you, and that’s part of the attraction.”   
“Great, runaway horse was what I was going for. I’m glad you saw that in me. I’m following Mitch’s trail before it goes cold. Get used to it.”  
“Abi, you just had stitches in your eyebrow, you’re in no fit state to go anywhere.” He paused. “Besides, we need to talk.”  
She shrugged. “I’m prepared to talk as long as you stop havering.”  
“Huh? Stop what?”  
“Havering. It’s a Scottish word for babbling nonsense.”  
Heyes gave a snort of annoyance. “Abi, I don’t even know who I am anymore, let alone how to take your sudden arrival here. I need to think. I need to get my head straight.”  
Abigail nodded. “Yes, you do, and you’ll do that a lot better if I’m gone.” She patted his arm. “Stop trying to second-guess me, and just treat me like an old friend who wishes you well and who’s trying to help.”  
“Yeah,” Heyes frowned and stared at the flicking tails of the horses. “The telegram. You said you’d collected a telegram. Was it from the Kid? Have they arrived?”  
Abigail shook her head. “No, it wasn’t from them.”  
“Who then? What was it?”  
Abigail gave a deep sigh. “It was from Anya.”  
Heyes’ brows rose in concern. “Is she all right?”   
“She’s fine.” Abigail gazed aimlessly ahead.  
“It must have been important for her to send a telegram.” Heyes pressed. “What did she want?”  
Abigail swallowed hard. “She wanted to wish me happy birthday, Mr. Heyes.”  
“Your birthday?” Heyes groaned. “No! And you got stitches? What a damnable way to spend it. Why didn’t you tell us?”  
He watched her profile as she stared ahead. “At last you’re talking sense, Mr. Heyes. It has been a terrible day, but I was leaving, remember?” She slowly closed her eyes. “I’m going to bed when we get back. I really need to sleep. I’ll be gone in the morning.”

 

The dusk gathered around the little group clattering up the stoop of the red brick house in Topeka. Kid took up the rear, looking cautiously around the shadowy street. Belle stretched up an arm and hammered on the door with the bright, brass knocker. The door opened and a woman with little sparkling spectacles scanned the group before her gaze settled on the Kid. 

“Mr. Curry, how good to see you again.” She ushered them inside darting a look up and down the street. “Nobody followed you?” 

“Nope,” the Kid stepped towards her, his smile spreading. “I can’t thank you enough for this, Hester.” He wrapped his arms around her and dropped a kiss on her cheek. 

“Mr. Curry!” Hester chuckled, “I think that’s the first time a man has kissed me in nearly twenty years.” Her smile brought out the ruddy apple cheeks in her round face. “I’m Hester Bentham. I’ve known Abi for many years.”

All eyes turned to the ceiling at the sound of thundering footsteps clattering across the floor above them.

“They’re here!?” A dark haired whirlwind appeared at the top of the stair case, before she gave a whoop of delight, and dashed at breakneck speed toward the visitors. She took the last five steps in a single leap, landing like a gazelle. “A boy? You never said there’d be a boy! Oh, we can play! I’m Becky. What’s your name?”

Hester fixed Rebecca with a glare. “Becky, that is not how young ladies introduce themselves to visitors. Is it?” 

She widened her eyes in faux innocence, but the devilment dancing in the chocolate depths was all too familiar. “Sorry, Aunt Hester.”

“Say hello properly,” Hester urged.

Rebecca stood up straight and tossed back her dark, brown curls. “Good evening, my name is Becky. It’s good to have you here.” The facade dissipated before their eyes as her face spread into a dimpled smile and she wiped her pert little nose on her sleeve. “I’ve got roller skates. Have you?” 

Beth blinked in disbelief, the ‘secret’ suddenly hitting her between the eyes. “Oh! She’s...”

Kid stretched out an arm and hugged Beth to him. “Yup, and she looks so much like him,” he whispered. 

Her colouring was the main difference from her father. Her lustrous hair could almost have been mistaken for jet black; sultry deep brown could be seen around the edges and in its wily shine; anywhere the hallway's darkness didn't obscure. The light seeped down into each strand, barely settling, but gleamed from her dancing, cat-like eyes. Kid’s heart skipped a beat; Heyes should be here. They should know one another; and his resolution to make that happen for him hardened in his soul. 

“She’s irrepressible,” Hester shook her head and flicked a smile at Kid. “I can’t think where she gets that from.”

“A double dose, I reckon,” the Kid grinned. “I saw you when you were just born, Becky.”

She gave a little gasp. “You knew my father? What was he like?”

“A wonderful man; clever, loyal and brave,” his voice was heavy with emotion. “He’d be so proud of you, I can tell you that.”

Rebecca gave a glittering smile. “Mama talks about my father all the time. I can tell she loved him so much. She looks sad sometimes, and I know she still misses him.”

“Enough of all this,” Hester ushered them down the hallway towards the kitchen. “You must be tired after that journey. I have a little supper prepared and then you can bathe and go to bed if you want. Beth? I take it you have no objections to sharing a room with your mother?”

Later that evening while Beth and her mother were in their room, getting ready for bed Belle could not help but notice the quiet look of consternation upon her daughter's face. All through the simple but satisfying dinner Beth couldn't take her eyes off of young Becky. She was very much like her mother, but with every movement, every gesture, Beth could see so much of her friend coming through in the child. Even her little mannerisms were just so.....Heyesian!  
Beth picked up quite quickly that Becky had no idea who her father really was and was careful about keeping her mouth shut on that topic, but inside her, the resentment was growing. No wonder Hannibal had been so upset at that Abigail's unannounced arrival—no wonder he was so hurt! To have a child and not even know her; to not even be acknowledged as the father, not even to the child herself? And what kind of woman was this Abigail Stewert that she would allow herself to be put in such a position as to have a child out of wedlock in the first place!? Apparently she'd had two!! Didn't she learn from her first mistake?  
Yes indeed, by the time dinner had been cleared away and the three members of the Jordan family had settled into their room, Beth was practically seething with self-righteous indignation. Belle had just gotten J.J. settled into the cot that had been set up for him and was turning down the blankets of the double bed that she and her daughter would be sharing when she decided that Beth had stewed in silence for long enough.

“Becky is quite a precocious child, isn't she?” Belle finally broached the topic.

“Hmm,” was Beth's only comment.

“What are you thinking about?” Belle asked, knowing there was a lot going on behind those brown eyes.

“She's obviously Hannibal's daughter,” Beth finally quipped. “It's written all over her.”

Belle smiled. “Yes. No denying the paternal line there.”

“And yet Abigail seems to think she had the right to deny him!”

Belle sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. “You must remember that Joshua was an active criminal at the time of Becky's birth. Hardly an ideal situation to be raising a family in. Abigail obviously did what she thought was best for the safety and welfare of her daughter.”

“If the situation wasn't ideal, then what was she doing with Hannibal in the first place then?” Beth fumed. “If she didn't want to marry a criminal than what business did she have doing....that....with him!” Then she mumbled under her breath. “We all know what kind of women have children out of wedlock.”

Belle's eyebrows went up at her daughter's self-righteous comment. “Well now aren't you a fine one to talk!” 

Beth puffed herself up and sent her mother an indignant stare. “What's that supposed to mean? I didn't......” she stopped in mid denial and started to turn red with embarrassment. “Well, we didn't....it was only once!”

“And once is often all it takes young lady,” Belle pointed out to her. “The only difference between you and Abigail is that you were very lucky!” Then Belle softened her tone a little when seeing her daughter's obvious distress. “Come,” she said, patting the spot on the bed beside her. “sit down with me.”

Beth slumped in defeat and then did as suggested. Belle put her arms around her daughter's shoulders and hugged her close.

“Try not to be too judgemental of others Beth,” Belle suggested quietly. “It is that very attitude that you've just displayed that has forced Abigail to deny Becky's true paternity. She had to lie to people, to say that Becky is the legitimate child of her marriage and that the father passed away. She's even had to lie to the child herself in order to protect her from the cruel remarks of self-righteous busybodies!”

Beth gave a little ironic laugh. “You mean like me.”

“Well, I wasn't going to actually say that.....” Belle smiled and hugged her daughter even closer. “Oh, Beth. You of all people should understand how a woman can get lost in a man's eyes,” she gave a quiet laugh. “and Joshua has such beautiful eyes, doesn't he?”

Beth practically snorted. “Yes, alright Momma—you've made your point.” Then she turned serious again. “It has been hard; waiting. There were times when we came close again and it was always Jed who put the brakes on before we went too far. I never could. I knew Jed wanted to, just as much as I did but somehow he was able to say no.”

“Hmm,” Belle thought about that for a moment. “Thaddeus has always been less—impetuous than Joshua. He was well aware of the consequences and perhaps after seeing what Joshua went through and realizing how close he came to making that same mistake with you, well maybe that gave him the resolve he needed to wait. OH! But that was a terrible thing to say.”

Beth frowned. “Why?”

“It's like saying that that beautiful child downstairs was a mistake,” Belle explained. “That by rights she should never have been born—and that's a terrible thing to say of any child. Oh my! Here we are again in one of those gray areas. By our teachings having a child out of wedlock is wrong and we shouldn't do it and yet once that baby is born and is full of life and joy then how can she not be one of God's children and be made welcome!”

“Oh Momma!” Beth teased. “You always did see things from both sides! It must make life very confusing sometimes!”

Belle laughed. “Yes! I have caused your father many a sleepless nights, I can assure you!”

Then Beth became serious again and sighed a deep sigh. “Do you think that Hannibal and Becky will ever know one another? It just doesn't seem fair that she can't know who her father is—especially when her father is....well...Hannibal Heyes! And that Hannibal knows he has a daughter, but isn't even allowed to visit her? That's cruel!”

“Yes. It's has been hard on Joshua.” Belle agreed. “And of course seeing Abi again has brought up all those old wounds on top of everything else he's struggling with right now. But I can see Abigail's point of view....”

“There you go again!” Beth pointed out. “seeing both sides!”

“Yes I know,” Belle laughed. “but Abi has said; In time. When Becky is a little older and able to understand then she'll tell her who her father is. Then perhaps Joshua can meet her. But in the meantime we must not say anything, do you understand? This is how Abi wishes it to be and we must respect that, alright?”

“Yes, I suppose you're right.”

“And be careful of where you cast stones,” the mother sternly reminded the daughter. “There but for the grace of God.....you could very easily have ended up in the same situation as Abi except that you would have had family around to support you. Abigail had no one. She's a strong woman to have been able to hold it all together. She deserves our respect not our disdain.”

“Yes Momma,” Beth agreed.

Heyes yawned and stretched, slowly coming awake in the early morning dawn. He took a deep breath and stared up at the ceiling or maybe more appropriately, he stared in the direction of the ceiling but was actually looking at nothing. He'd had the nightmares again but it had been one of those nights that come along every once in a while that don't run him through the wringer and leave him shaking and terrified at the other end of it  
He felt rather than heard Mouse stretch out and yawn herself and Heyes smiled. For an animal that was supposed to be nocturnal she sure liked to spend the nights sleeping at the foot of his bed. Of course the chilly autumn temperatures could have something to do with that; come spring time he'd probably never see her.  
Finally Heyes flipped the covers off and sat up. He shivered a little in the dawn chill and quickly grabbed for his clothes that were hanging on the nearby chair. The thought flitted through his mind that he had been wearing these same articles of clothing for a while now and should probably consider changing them, but the thought left as soon as it had arrived. It was too cold to waste time rummaging through the dresser drawer for clean clothing; he would do that tonight before he went to bed and then they would be ready for him when he got up the next morning.  
That sounded pretty logical to him and he quickly pulled on his trousers over the longjohns, then his socks and his shirt and then one of the sweaters that Belle had knitted for him while he'd been in prison. He had been afraid that those items would bring back too many bad memories to be of use to him now, but the fact that Belle had knitted them for him had over shadowed the bad vibes. He pulled the sweater on over his shirt with a smile of appreciative greeting.  
Mouse was already on the move and with a good morning 'ack' she jumped down off the bed and trotted over to the closed door, purring and weaving back and forth, waiting for him to catch up.  
“Yes I know,” Heyes mumbled as he headed in that direction. “you want your breakfast. Why don't you prove to us all that you're your mother's daughter and go catch it yourself?”  
“Ack!”  
“Hmm.”  
Heyes opened the door and headed out towards the kitchen with the little gray tabby cat trotting along beside, ahead and around him. He went to the ice box and grabbed a piece of chicken and then cut off a slice which he then chopped up into little bite size pieces and put them on the floor for his pet. Mouse trotted forward and with loud and appreciative purring, began to devour her breakfast.  
“You're spoiling that cat Heyes,” he heard Harry's voice from the door of the kitchen. “How is it ever going learn to catch mice if you keep on feeding it?”  
Heyes just shrugged. “She'll get around to it when she's ready. She's still just a baby.”  
“Hmm,” Harry grumbled. “Can't understand why you have a cat in the house in the first place. They belong out in the barn.”  
Heyes smiled as he leaned down to stroke his furry friend. Her purring increased but she continued to eat. “She's not a barn cat Harry,” Heyes explained. “She's special. I don't care if she never catches a mouse in her life. She has a more important job than that.”  
Harry snorted. “Can't imagine what that would be.”  
“No, I don't suppose you can,” Heyes mumbled as he straightened up and went about the business of getting the coffee going.  
Jesse came in to the kitchen then, yawning and looking dishevelled. “You fellas are up early,” he commented. “The only one to beat you was Abi.”  
Heyes looked around suddenly concerned. “Abi? She's up already!?”  
“Up and gone,” Jesse told him. “She sure is a firecracker. I tried to get her to wait and have breakfast first but she was determined. Said that her saddlebags were already packed and ready to go and if I could just lend her a horse, she would be on her way....”  
“Jesse, you didn't loan her a horse did you?” Heyes was almost pleading with him.  
Jesse sighed with a defeated look on his face. “Hannibal when was the last time you were able to talk that woman out of doing anything?”  
“Hmm, yeah. Good point,” Heyes conceded. “I better get after her. Which way did she go?”  
“What do you mean 'you better get after her'?” Jesse asked him. “You can't just go riding off into the hills. Who knows how long it would take you to catch up with her; she has a good couple of hours head start on you.”  
“Then the sooner I get started, the better isn't it?”  
“Han, you're not going,” Jesse was adamant. “I can already see it; you'd catch up with her and then decide to join in on the manhunt. You'd end up violating the conditions of your parole and then you'd really be in trouble wouldn't you.”  
Heyes' body language spoke defeat but he wasn't ready to give up yet. “I don't like the idea of her going off to track down this 'Mitch' fellow all on her own. I know she's capable, but if he's who I think he is then he won't hesitate to kill a woman and I just can't sit here and do nothing!”  
“Well send Harry,” Jesse suggested. “You brought him in on this case so that he could do the things that you can't do. He'll find her.”  
“That's sound thinking Mr. Jordan!” Harry agreed. “Don't you worry Heyes—I'll bring her back. Just point me in the right direction. I'll have that little lady back here before you know it!”  
Heyes and Jesse exchanged looks. “You've got no other choice Han,” Jesse pointed out. “You don't have the time to ride into town to get permission and you are not leaving this ranch without it.”  
Half an hour later Harry was all ready to go on one of Jesse's fine horses, looking like he was just heading out for an afternoon ride in the park. Heyes stood beside the horse's head, looking concerned.  
“Don't you worry Heyes,” Harry assured him. “I'll find her. Tracking down people is what I'm good at!”  
“Yeah right Harry,” Heyes was not looking too confident. “Well, take care of yourself. I'll see ya' later.”  
“Look for us on the front porch by lunch time!” Harry boasted and then he booted his horse forward and took off in the direction that Abi had gone in.  
Heyes stood, watching him go with hands on his hips and a sinking feeling in his heart. Sometimes this being on parole was really hard to take. He couldn't believe that he was standing here letting Harry Briscoe ride off and attempt to do a job that he should be doing himself. Abi wasn't going to listen to Harry, Heyes already knew that; hell Abi probably wouldn't even listen to Heyes! And then, yeah Heyes would have carried on with her rather than let her carry on alone and Jesse was right, then he would really be in trouble.  
Knowing that however, did not make standing there and watching Harry ride off to do what he himself should be doing, any easier.

To Be Continued


	4. Another Long Chase

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leads start to present themselves and Wheat and Kyle come in handy.
> 
> Abi and Harry form an unusual alliance.
> 
> Heyes tries hard to adjust to NOT being the one in charge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graphic violence  
> Implied rape and murder  
> Implied underage rape and murder

Harry Briscoe froze at the metallic sound of a rifle being cocked behind him.  
“Hands up, where I can see them,” warned the female voice behind him.  
“Abi, is that you?”  
“Thank your lucky stars it is. Put your hands down, Harry. What are you doing creeping around behind me?”  
He dropped his arms and swivelled around on his horse. “Heyes sent me. He wanted to come himself but he can’t just set off across country.” He scowled, “and I wasn’t creeping.”  
Abigail lowered her weapon and strolled out from behind the trees. “Too right, you weren’t. Who taught you how to follow people? I spotted you an hour and a half ago.”  
“I wasn’t trying to hide.” Harry raised his eyebrows at her male attire topped off by the long, brown, waxed coat. “I thought I was following a lady.”  
Abigail narrowed her eyes. “At least I’m dressed sensibly for the job. You’re wearing a suit, and a fedora? Are you kidding me?”  
Harry gave a harrumph of irritation. “I came to bring you back, not head off across country, and this is no job for a woman. I’ll go after this ‘Mitch’ character once I’ve gotten you back to the Double J.”  
Abigail walked over to the trees and led her horse out of concealment. “I’m not going. Either come with me or go back, we’ve lost enough time.” She fixed him with a hard stare, “and I’ll decide whether or not I’m capable of doing something, not a man who knows nothing about me.”  
“I’m not prepared to act as nursemaid to some dumb woman,” spluttered Harry.  
Abigail swung herself into the saddle. “Dumb? I had a rifle pointed at your head five minutes ago. What does that make you?”  
“Normal,” Harry retorted. “When I go off after a woman I don’t expect her to be a female Jesse James.”  
She gave him a smile of amusement. “Try Micajah Atwater.”  
“Who?”  
“He’s a writer and a Pinkerton, Mr. Briscoe, he’s also a close friend. He’s generally considered to be rather good at his job.”  
“A Pinkerton? I’m a Bannerman man, and proud of it.”  
“Good for you.” Abigail kicked her horse into action. “Tell Mr. Heyes I’ll be in touch.”  
Harry urged his mount forward and grabbed hold of her reins. “If you think I’m going to let you take off after a violent drifter, you’ve got another thing coming.”  
“Remove your hand, or I’ll do it for you, Harry.”  
“Look, little lady, you might think of yourself as some kind of hard nut, but I’ve had it up to here. You’re coming back and I won’t take no for an answer. This is a job for a professional.” Harry found himself staring into the business end of a colt and backed off, edging his horse away. “You’re completely loco! How the hell did Heyes and Curry meet you, in any case?”  
“They met me when Allan Pinkerton assigned me to investigate a series of train robberies in the spring of 1874. The Devil’s Hole Gang had suddenly become a lot more prolific. How did you meet them, Harry?”  
Harry’s jaw dropped open. “A Pinkerton... I heard he employed women, but I never met any.”  
“Maybe you have, and didn’t know it? We were very good at adopting roles.”  
“Were?”  
Abigail nodded. “Yes, Robert Pinkerton got rid of all the women once he took over the agency in 1884. I was gone by then, of course, I had my family to look after.”  
Harry’s brow crinkled in curiosity. “You got married? That makes sense, but where’s your husband, and why is he letting you go on this wild goose-chase?”  
“He died. I know exactly what I’m doing, and I came here to help. I’m a trained professional who can use a gun as well as you can. Now, are you coming with me or going back? I won’t tolerate interference, or being talked down to. Got that?”  
“I didn’t pack for a long trip,” Harry grumbled, “and you said yourself that I’m not dressed for it.”  
“Fine,” Abigail nodded. “We can kit you up in the next town. We need to ask questions there anyway, but try to be subtle, eh, Harry?”  
“I’m always subtle!”  
“Sure you are, Harry. Just try to remember that I’ll treat you the way you treat me. If you want respect, you’d better give it.”  
Harry twitched his moustache. “At least I know what kind of woman you are. You had me confused up until now.”  
Abigail bridled at him. “And what kind of woman would that be?”  
“The kind who’d only be at lover’s leap to push someone off.” growled Harry, “You're unnatural but at least you’re on our side.”

Heyes sat by the wood stove in the living room, casually stroking the sleeping kitten on his lap and staring off into space. He was worried. He and Jesse had kept themselves busy all that afternoon with the chores around the barn yard; always plenty to do there. Sam had been out and helped with mucking stalls and doing some repairs, but had long since headed for home and supper. It was dark now, except for the reflective light caused by the freshly fallen snow. OH, yes—it had started to snow by early afternoon and by evening there was a good solid covering on the ground. Of course this was a personal insult against Heyes; the fates just giving him one more reason to worry.  
Jesse came up on his friend unnoticed and tapped the younger man on the shoulder. Heyes jumped slightly and came back to the present.  
“Hmm? What?'  
“Here,” Jesse said, handing him a glass of brandy. “Help chase away the chill.”  
“Oh. Yeah.”  
Jesse sat down opposite his friend and studied him for a moment.  
“You're worried about them aren't you?”  
“Hmm? Oh yeah,” Heyes admitted. “Though I don't know why I bother. I can hear Abi already complaining; 'Don't insult me with such nonsense Mr. Heyes! I'm quite capable of looking after myself!'”  
Jesse snorted. He was already well enough acquainted with Mrs. Stewart to be able to hear her tones in Heyes' words. Then he sighed and turned serious again.  
“It's hard not to worry about the people we love.”  
Heyes sent him a strange look; Was he still in love with Abi? He still cared about her, but did he still love her? He didn't know.  
“Why does she still call you 'Mr. Heyes'?” Jesse asked, suddenly changing the subject; he needed a distraction from his worries as well. “Your relationship with her is obviously beyond the formal.”  
It was Heyes' turn to snort. “Yeah well, she despises my given name. Absolutely refuses to use it.”  
“Perhaps she could use your middle name.”  
“Ellstrom!?” Heyes snorted again. “I'd shoot her myself if she started calling me that! Maybe—Joshua?”  
Jesse nodded reflectively. “Hmm.”  
“Yeah, but she never knew me as 'Joshua' though,” Heyes pointed out. “It wouldn't mean anything to her.” Heavy sigh. “Oh well, 'Mr. Heyes' it is, I suppose.”  
The two men continued to sit in companionable silence for a few moments, both of them off in their own thoughts. Jesse was missing his wife and daughter, hoping, but not too optimisticly that they would be home for Christmas. It seems that this was going to be another year of somebody being absent and missed during the holidays. It was supposed to have been a special holiday this time around. Now the family was splintered more than ever and worry of another kind had settled over the Jordan family.  
“Five years ago,” Heyes mumbled quietly, almost to the point that Jesse wasn't sure he'd heard him.  
“What was that?”  
“Hmm? Oh. I was just thinking,” Heyes spoke up a little louder. “It was five years ago that I was sentenced to that....place.”  
Jesse sighed but didn't respond. What could one say to that, after all? It had been five years of hell, Jesse knew it. It had been hard on everyone but not as hard as it had been on Heyes. Now others were gone and being missed.  
“I'm sorry,” Heyes quietly spoke again.  
“It's not your fault,” Jesse assured him. “and at least they're safe now.”  
“No, I meant...oh well, yeah that too. But I meant about my behaviour while Abi was here,” Heyes clarified. “I don't mean to be such an ass, and I certainly don't mean to challenge you. Goodness knows you and Belle have done more for us than....” Heyes took another sip of brandy, feeling awkward but feeling the need to apologize none the less. “I just don't seem to be able to control myself very well these days—especially where Abi is concerned.”  
“She does seem to bring out the 'outlaw' in you alright,” Jesse observed with a smile.  
“Ha!” Heyes grinned and nodded. “Yeah, she does.” Then he became serious again. “I do care about her though—it's just bad timing. That seems to have been the problem right from the start, between me and her; bad timing.”  
“Relationships don't often go the way we think they should,” Jesse observed. “I guess that's why when you do meet someone special—and the timing is right, then it's quite a wonderful thing.”  
Heyes nodded and looked into his half empty glass, his other hand resting quietly on the sleeping kitten. “It seems it's not right for me and Miranda either. I had hoped, but.....too much baggage there I suppose.”  
Jesse smiled. “Don't write it off that quickly Hannibal. Give it time to sort itself out. Goodness knows you've got enough to deal with already. The timing with Miranda may not be right for now, not for either one of you but six months from now....? Just give it time.”  
Heyes nodded again. “David said, quite bluntly; that I should sleep alone until these nightmares ease off. Certainly don't want to go killing someone in my sleep. Wouldn't that be a fitting end to a life of crime—be hanged for killing someone in my sleep! Still, if I did that to someone I cared about then life wouldn't be worth living anyways.”  
“You're being awfully melancholy tonight,” Jesse observed. “What's bothering you?”  
Heyes glanced over at his friend, and then back into his drink. “Five years,” he repeated. “Five years—wasted.”  
“No, they weren't wasted,” Jesse contradicted him. “They were hard years, I know. But not wasted.”  
“How do you figure that?” Heyes questioned him. “What did I accomplish?”  
“You survived,” Jesse stated bluntly.  
Heyes snorted.  
“No,” Jesse remained firm. “Sometimes just surviving is accomplishing a lot. You've been through hell and high water, but you've come out the other end damaged but still fighting. You're going to be alright Hannibal. I know you doubt it sometimes, but I've told you before that you have strength in you that you're not even aware of and when all is said and done you are going to be a better man because of all this.  
“On top of all that, you've reconnected, although distantly, with your daughter and now, as well with her mother. Whether you end up spending your lives together or not, at least you have the opportunity now to mend some fences.”  
“Hmm,” Heyes was sceptical. “If Abi will let me.”  
“Again, give it time,” Jesse advised him. “You may come to know your daughter yet. And that might not have even had a chance of coming about if you hadn't gone to prison.”  
“I suppose.”  
“I think that it is also safe to say that you have a good friend in Mr. Reece as well,” Jesse continued. “You don't know where that could lead.”  
Heyes let loose a deep sigh. “Yes alright!” he finally conceded. “I'm sure never going to forget Doc Morin either!” Then he actually laughed. “He and I had some good times together. I remember I hadn't even been there six months yet and we both got knee-walking drunk! Oh ho! Kenny was mad! Oh he let me have it too—big time! Never did that again!” Heyes released yet another sigh and smiled over at his companion. “Yeah, you're right. I suppose it wasn't a total waste of time. Sure a hard way to make friends though.”  
“Often those are the best friends to have,” Jesse mused.  
“Yeah.”  
“Jed tells me you also developed an appreciation for classical music,” Jesse continued on. “I have to admit I was surprised by that one. And David says that you learned quite a lot about medicine working in the infirmary. All very positive things.”  
Heyes snorted derogatorily. “Oh, I had no real talent as a medical man,” he admitted with some disappointment. “I was just cocky enough to think that all I had to do was read the books and learn the terms and then I could heal people. Ha! No—medicine is a gift. Doc Morin had it even though he'd never had any formal training. And David, ha—David; now there's a man who is truly gifted. I could never do what he does.”  
Jesse smiled. “You think that because you can't be the best at something then that means that what you can do with it isn't valuable?”  
Heyes shrugged. “I donno.”  
“You have a brilliant mind Han, I envy you that,” Jesse told him. “But you can't expect to be the best at everything. You have to give the rest of us a chance you know.”  
Heyes grinned and then nodded concession. “I guess I did just get used to things coming easily. I suppose humility was something else I learned in prison.” Then his expression became reflective. “Yeah, I learned that one really well.”  
“A bit of humility is good for all of us,” Jesse pointed out. “You'll find your balance again Hannibal. You're already on the road towards it.”  
Heyes smiled again then and stroked the kitten who stretched out a front leg and started to purr. “Yeah, I suppose. I hope so anyways.”  
“You will,” Jesse finished off the last of his brandy. “Well, I'm off to bed. Are you going to wait up for them a while longer?”  
“No,” Heyes conceded. “They're not coming back—at least not for some time. I knew that as soon as Harry went off after her. Once Abi's on the scent she doesn't turn aside; she'll stay on Mitch's trail until she runs him to ground. This could get dangerous.” He sighed again and finished his own brandy. “Oh well, Harry will be alright—Abi will look after him.”

Heyes yawned and stretched before closing the curtains against the swirling snow outside. It was really coming down now. He glanced at the dresser, the remembrance of this morning’s resolution to make sure he changed his clothes flashing through his mind. Yup, it had to be done, no matter how cold it was.  
He pulled the drawer open, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of a note lying on top of his neatly balled socks. The familiar copperplate handwriting bore the words, ‘Mr. Heyes.’ How the hell had she got that in here without waking him? He shook his head ruefully, was he losing all his skills?  
He reached out tentatively and unfolded the sheet as he ambled over to the bed and sat down.

'My Dear Mr. Heyes,

Please accept my sincere apologies for any upset I have caused you. I had to keep my investigation into who might be trying to hurt Beth a secret, because I had no idea who was behind this. I could find absolutely no motive locally. She is a popular and respected young woman, and I’m sure that she and Jed will make a lovely match.  
I had no alternative other than to arrive unannounced when no ranch hands could see me. My presence in the area had to be covert until Beth was safely out of the way.  
That said, I had no idea that my arrival would affect you so badly. You had written to me for years, and I believed the letters, you see. I’m very sorry for that.  
Anyway, you’ll be relieved to know that I won’t bother you again. Please tell Jesse that I will send the horse back to him by rail freight.  
Please contact me when this is over and I will honour my promise to arrange a meeting with Anya. Hester can help to make sure you don’t have to meet me, as that is clearly distressing for you.  
In closing, I wish you all the very best for the future. I am sure you will find a lovely woman, and a happy life ahead, and I urge you to move on with your life in the secure knowledge that I intend to do all I can give you the fresh start you want and need.

My deepest love to you always,  
Abigail.’

He sat there, a caustic lump forming in the back of his throat, memories of sitting on his prison cot cherishing any contact from her coming to the forefront now and causing his eyes to sting. So, this was it? She was gone and he’d never see her again? He blinked hard, tears beginning to form. No... This couldn’t be it. Abigail had always been there in the background, something solid and reliable, like an old tune he’d known all his life. He crumpled the paper in his hand, releasing a rasping breath. The words, 'I believed the letters, you see. I’m very sorry for that,' rang in his head. Was she sorry for believing he’d loved her? Did she think he never had? What did she mean?

He stared aimlessly into the corner. He missed her already.

 

The following afternoon, Heyes and Sam took the buckboard into town to get supplies. The first snowfall of the season had not been too substantial but still enough to warrant making a special trip in to top up supplies before everyone got totally snowed in.  
Sam pulled the draft horses up at the mercantile and both men jumped down into the snow.  
“I'll be back in a minute Sam,” Heyes told the younger man. “I just want to check the telegraph office.”  
“Sure thing Heyes,” Sam acknowledged him. “I'll get started here.”  
Heyes made his way down the boardwalk towards the office, knocking the snow off his boots as he went. He was silently wishing—and not for the first time—that Kid would hurry up and get back. He must be close by now, unless he decided to stay on a few days. Oh but then he would have sent word so he must be on his way back. Heyes wondered fleetingly if he had met Anya, and if so; what had he thought of her? He felt jealousy and curiosity fighting for control over his emotions.  
Heyes turned into the telegraph office, breathing warm air onto his cold hands.  
“Hey Clayt,” Heyes greeted the telegrapher. “Anything for us?”  
“Yeah actually,” Clayt went to his files and brought out some pieces of folder paper. “Two for you and one for Jesse.”  
“Oh!” Heyes was surprised and relieved. “Two huh? Sounds promising. Thanks.”  
Heyes stepped outside again and began to read while he was walking, almost bumping into a bundled up woman coming towards him.  
“Good afternoon Hannibal,” came a familiar voice.  
Heyes glanced up and felt a twinge of irritation. He didn't have time for this. “Good afternoon, Isabelle,” he returned her greeting and then quickly went back to his telegrams, totally oblivious to the look of daggers being shot back at him.  
“Hannibal!”  
Heyes groaned and snarled to himself but then forced a smile onto his face as he stopped and looked back at the young woman.  
“Yes?”  
“Are you planning on attending the Thanksgiving Day dance?”  
Oh crap! “Ahh, I'm not sure. Maybe.”  
Isabelle smiled. “Well, since you and Miranda aren't courting anymore, perhaps....”  
“Yes! Perhaps I'll see you there!” Heyes quickly interjected. “Must be off. Good afternoon Isabelle.”  
Then he turned on his heels and quickly made a bee line back to the safety of Sam's company. He could almost feel the frustrated vibes being directed his way, but he chose to ignore them and went back to his telegrams. He unfolded the first one and smiled. It was from Jed.  
'H.H. All's well. Heading home. J.C.'  
Oh good! Heyes was missing him. With all this stuff going on, he needed his friend back home with him again. It was also nice to know that everyone had arrived safe and sound in Topeka and hopefully they would remain that way. He then turned his attention to the second telegram addressed to him. This one was from Kenny and Heyes' heart skipped a beat.  
'H. Yes. Complete description sent by train. Should arrive tomorrow a.m. K. R.'  
YES! Heyes nearly laughed out loud. Yes! Harris did have a dagger tattoo on his arm! Yes!! OH!--damn! He had to let Abi know but he had no idea how to get hold of her! Dammit! With all their arguing back and forth they had never set up a way for them to stay in touch. And now, more than ever he wondered if she would even want to get in touch with him. Heyes clenched his jaw in anger; he hated this! He hated waiting! He felt almost as impotent as he had in prison—everybody else making the decisions for him and all he could do was sit there and take it—and wait!

Harry swirled the amber fluid in his glass and sat back to puff on his cigar. He leaned forward, opening his mouth to greet the tall, slim madam of the house, when a movement caught the corner of his eye. He groaned. Abigail was in the hallway, talking with a small mousey woman by the front door. What the hell was she doing here? Couldn’t a man even frequent a brothel without her turning up? Well, at least she was wearing a dress this time. He narrowed his eyes and strode over to the door.  
“She ain’t on the payroll,” drawled a female voice behind him. The woman shrugged, looking Abigail up and down. “Not yet, anyways. Let me have a word.” Harry turned; the madam had followed him. Her coal-black hair stood out starkly against waxy skin and the scarlet lipstick was bleeding into the wrinkles around her unsavory gash of a mouth. “If you like ‘em beat up, Massie had a tough ‘un three days ago. She might fit the bill.”  
“Why would I like anyone beat up?” Harry demanded. “What kind of man do you think I am?”  
The madam scrutinized him with sooty eyes. “A detective,” she declared, coolly, “or a salesman; or maybe even a quack.” She folded her arms, causing her cleavage to wrinkle like crepe. “Somethin’ dodgy, anyways. I can spot ‘em, and I’ve now got enough experience to do it before I’m stupid enough to marry ‘em.”  
“You can spot them, eh?”  
“In a heartbeat. What brand of snake oil are you peddlin’?”  
Harry shifted from one foot to the other. “I’m not selling, I’m buying,” he pulled, the woman aside into the corner for the hall. “Information on a man I believe to have passed this way.”  
“The law? I knew it,” the woman sneered. “I could smell it, even without you all got up in new duds like some kind of shiny cowpoke. Straight out of the box, are we, sonny?”  
“I was wearing a suit when I got a lead, so I had to head to the store today.” He thrust his hand into his pocket. “And I’m a private detective, this idiot beat his wife half to death.”  
The woman shrugged a boney shoulder. “So? Men like that keep me staffed. Why should I care?”  
“Her father’s rich, and very, very angry. He’s offered to pay a thousand dollars reward to anybody who gives information leading to his arrest.”  
The smutty eyes smoldered with doubt and greed. “You ain’t wanderin’ around these parts carryin’ that sort of money.”  
Harry nodded. “Of course I’m not. I can offer ten now, and the full thousand when we catch him. Five foot eight, light brown hair, dagger tattoo on his right arm and goes by the name of Mitch; does that ring any bells?”  
“I tell you what honey, come back here with a thousand dollars, and I’ll ring your bell ‘till the clapper drops off. Now, pick yourself a woman, or leave.”  
Harry simmered. “Twenty.”  
“Bud!” the madam bellowed. “We got another one. Get him outta here.”  
Harry felt himself grabbed by the collar, and hustled on tiptoe towards the front door, passing Abigail and the mousey woman on the way. The woman spoke to Abigail in a language he didn’t understand. They laughed, watching while he was tossed unceremoniously out onto the boardwalk.

Harry heard a gentle tap at his door. He scowled, tossing back the bedclothes. “Who’s there?”  
The urgent whisper hissed through the door. “Abigail, let me in.”  
He ambled over reluctantly and pulled the door open. “You!? Done laughing at me, are you?”  
Abigail frowned. “Harry, we’re working to the same end, and we both do what we have to. It’s not competitive; sometimes you’ll do best, and sometimes I will. All that matters is that we get something. I was adopting a role, not laughing at you; between us we have it covered, you need to trust me.”  
He frowned, gathering the quilt around his shoulders as he closed the door behind her. “Yeah? Well I got nowhere.”  
“I hit lucky. That woman you saw me with came from Scotland, so she was dead keen to talk to somebody in her own language. I enjoyed it too.” Her eyes took on a wistful air, “I so rarely get to use it anymore.” She shook herself back to reality. “Mitch was here three days ago. He beat up a girl, accusing her of asking too many questions.”  
“Yeah, the woman who ran the place told me about that,” murmured Harry, unwilling to admit he hadn’t linked the information to the man they were hunting.  
“Great, we seem to be working together at last,” smiled Abigail. “Did you get a direction of travel?”  
“No,” Harry admitted, ruefully. “She had me run out of there when she found out I wasn’t going to pay for a girl. That was as far as I got.”  
“Yes,” grinned Abigail. “I did see that. I didn’t get one either. I’ll try the stables in the morning, maybe they saw where he headed after he picked up his horse.” She paused. “Or do you want to do it? I don’t want to cramp your style; we’re both here to investigate.”  
“No, you do it. They’re more likely to feel sorry for a woman with a black eye. I’ll go see the sheriff. With my Bannerman identification he might tell us something we can use.”  
Abigail touched the back of his hand lightly. “That sounds like a plan. I’ll be honest with you, I wasn’t sure we would work well together, but we’re doing just fine, aren’t we?”  
A smile twitched at Harry’s lips. “Yeah. We make a good team. I wasn’t sure about working with a woman, but I guess their natural nosiness is handy.”  
“I’ll choose to take that as a compliment.”  
He arched his brows. “You want a compliment, Abi? I can do that.” He lowered the quilt revealing his shoulders clad in his combination underwear.  
Abigail sighed. “Harry, this is a job, nothing more. Don’t start complicating things.”  
“It’s not complicated, Abi. You’re a woman, I’m a man, we’re together in a hotel room... surely you could have told me about Mitch in the morning?”  
“Sure, but I could also ride right out of here on my own.” Abigail walked over to the door, shaking her head. “I’ve worked with men for years who think I’m easy because I carry a gun, or do things they think decent women shouldn’t do. Goodnight, Harry. If you’re feeling lonely, you know where the brothel is. I’ll see you at breakfast.”

Two friends who used to be outlaws rode side by side in companionable silence. One of them was no longer an outlaw because he had legitimately paid his dues to the Territory of Wyoming and was considered to be a 'free' man. The other was by all intents and purposes—dead.  
It was cold and every day was getting colder but it was a different kind of cold than these two men were accustomed to. The temperatures didn't drop down as low as they did in Wyoming, but it was damp with a dampness that went right down and into the bone. The dead man coughed a couple of times and pulled the collar of his winter coat tighter up around his throat. The free man sent a worried look over to his friend but hesitated to say anything, not wanting to suggest that the other man was weak or hindering them in any way. Another couple of dry coughs however, changed his mind.  
“You doin' okay Wheat?” Kyle asked, trying to hide the worry in his tone.  
“Yeah,” Wheat grumbled from behind his turned up collar. “Stop naggin' at me.”  
“Wul, it's jest that, that cough is soundin' worse, an'...”  
“I'm fine Kyle!” Wheat insisted and then coughed again. “It's only another five miles to that next town. I'll get warmed up there.”  
“How much money we got left?” Kyle asked, again trying not to sound worried.  
“Enough for tonight,” Wheat assured him. “Might even be able to order up a bath if we take it easy on the drinkin'.”  
Kyle smiled in anticipation. “Yeah! Bath'd be nice. That'd warm ya' up, eh Wheat?”  
Wheat coughed a couple of more times and shivered inside his coat. “I sure hope that lawyer friend of the Kid's forwarded that money, like he said he would,” the presumed dead man mumbled. “If he didn't it'll be the last warm meal and soft bed for some time to come.”  
Kyle's usually happy expression dropped to a frown at the sound of that. They had been on the trail of Harris for quite some time now and had hoped to be able to catch up to him before the colder weather had set in. So much for hopes. If it hadn't been for the retainers that Steven Granger had been wiring to them over the last few months they would have had to give up the chase—or go back to robbin' banks in order to support themselves. Both Kid and Steven had been adamant that they refrain from doing that!  
Their trek had been a challenging one to say the least. Harris did not stay in any one place for long and he seemed to manage to keep just far enough ahead of his pursuers to be elusive and to remain a free man. It wasn't clear to the two ex-outlaws if Harris was aware that he was being tracked or if he was just being cautious, knowing that he was a fugitive and that the law could still be looking for him.  
Truth be known, the law had pretty much given up on Carl Harris. Though fliers and warnings had gone out right after his escape from the prison, within a week law officials had gotten tired of the chase and had given it up for more pressing matters. The reward posted for him wasn't enough to garner much attention from lawmen or bounty hunters so the only ones actively seeking him at this point were our two bedraggled heroes.  
The initial supposition that Harris might have headed north to Canada was vetoed early on, as a quick jaunt in that direction yielded no clues or information to back it up. The boys then turned east, into the Dakota's and did finally pick up a hint or two from various towns that a rather mean-spirited transient had been through. Checking out the local brothels with the convenient excuse of seeking information not only provided some much appreciated entertainment but also confirmed many of those hints and rumours so the fellas knew they were on the right track.  
Much to their relief, Harris seemed to be avoiding Wyoming; it would appear that none of them wanted to let their existence be known in that State. He kept up a southerly route and headed into Nebraska and then—disappeared. Wheat sent an enquiry to Kid asking if he wanted them to carry on with the manhunt, since Heyes was out of prison now, did finding Harris still matter? Kid's response was a definite 'Yes!'; there were other reasons now for them wanting to have words with Harris. Clearing Heyes of the accusation of murder had certainly been the main one, but finding out who had actually killed the Doc was still a priority so Wheat and Kyle were to stay at it.  
Quite a bit of grumbling resulted from this response, but since it also included more money from the lawyer they decided that sniffing around to find Harris' trail again wouldn't be too much of an inconvenience. It was coming into summer and Wheat was finding the fresh air and warm temperatures healing to his spirit and battered body. Both men felt good and with the steady income they were receiving without actually having to risk their necks—yet, they carried on with the quest. They circled around Nebraska for most of the summer, not really too concerned about the fact that they weren't actually accomplishing anything.  
Mid-August eventually rolled around and Wheat and Kyle were beginning to feel right at home in Nebraska. They would sit around the camp fire and talk about actually settling down in these parts, perhaps even start up a new gang and get things rolling again. Maybe they could both come up with their own alias's and that way Wheat could remain dead and Kyle could still be considered a free man in Wyoming. They could wear disguises! Yeah, that could be fun. Wheat could shave off his moustache!--oh no! That was going too far. Kyle thought it was a good idee!  
By the end of August their dreams of starting up a new life got put on hold when they rode into a small town close to the Nebraska/Kansas border and found the place in a sombre state of mind. Riding down the main street towards the livery stable it didn't take much, even for two strangers to realize that something was amiss. The partners exchanged concerned glances as they carried on about their business and dismounted outside the stables.  
“Howdy gents,” the livery man greeted them as he took hold of the bridles. Apparently he referred to all potential customers as 'gents' regardless of their attire. “Needin' ta' board these animals are ya'?”  
“Yeah, just overnight,” Wheat told him. “How much?”  
“Two bits per horse, per night.”  
“Two bits!?” Kyle squeaked. “That's downright robbery!”  
The liveryman shrugged. “Includes hay, grain, water and a rubbin' down. You don't think it's worth it then you can leave em' tied up outside the saloon all night if'en you'd rather. Might not be there in the mornin' though—if ya' knows what I mean.”  
Wheat snorted. “Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled as he dug into a pocket. “Two bits per horse, per night. Sounds fair enough.”  
“But Wheat...!”  
“Shuddup Kyle!” Wheat suggested. “Rather pay the man four bits than have to come back here in the morning and pay em' $50.00 for new horses and tack.”  
“That's sound thinkin',” the liveryman praised the deceased outlaw. “I can see you have a fine head for money matters.”  
“Yeah, yeah,” Wheat handed over the money. “Just make sure they get hay and water and grain—and a rub down. AND they better be here in the morning!”  
“Of course! I'm no thief!”  
The honest business man received a derisive snort from both his customers at that comment. Then the two travel weary men untied their bedrolls and saddlebags and grabbed their rifles before turning and heading towards the hotel.  
That welcomed establishment was only half a block away but even at that the two partners couldn't help but notice the solemn expressions and lowered eyes on many of the people who passed them by; something was amiss, that was for sure. They trotted up the stairs and into the lobby and then headed straight over to the counter in order to sign in and get settled before heading over to the saloon.  
“Afternoon gents.” Seemed everyone was a gent in this town. “What can I do for you?”  
“One room with two beds,” Wheat ordered. “You got that?”  
“Yessir,” the clerk smiled graciously and then added with thinly veiled hope; “Shall I send you up a bath as well?”  
“What you think Kyle?” Wheat asked his partner, forgetting all about the alias's they had agreed upon using. “You feelin' in need of a bath?”  
“Wull, yeah...that'd be nice,” Kyle admitted. “Dang Wheat—we been on the trail fer about a week. A bath'd be a good idee!”  
“Fine,” Wheat agreed, actually thinking that he wouldn't mind scraping off some of this trail dust himself. “Might as well get some clothes laundered too while we're at it.”  
“Certainly sir!” came the appreciative response. “I'll make sure everything gets taken care of.”  
“Fine,” Wheat mumbled as he took the key to their door. “Say—what's all the long faces about in town? Somebody die or something?”  
“Oh, well—yes, actually,” the clerk suddenly looked remorseful. “One of the gals who works over at the saloon got beat up pretty bad the other night. I mean, that's no big deal—just a saloon gal, if ya' know what I mean. But that fool deputy we had here, well he was kinda sweet on that little trollop and he decided to confront the fella that beat her up. Now everybody with any sense could see that this fella was trouble and best to just leave him alone, but that young idiot went into the saloon all puffed up and challenging him and ended up getting a knife between his ribs. Died right there on the floor of the saloon.”  
Wheat and Kyle exchanged a look.  
“This fella locked up now?” Wheat asked the clerk.  
“Ha! No sir,” the clerk informed them. “The sheriff weren't around and I suppose there were enough fellas in that saloon to take him down, but ya' know; that man was mean through and through, you could just see it. And him standing there holding the knife with blood all over 'em and that killin' lust in his eye, well that just kinda takes the 'hero' outa most folks.”  
“Yeah, I suppose it might at that,” Wheat agreed. “He still in town then?”  
“Oh no! Thank goodness!” came the response. “No, he done took off right after that. The sheriff, he went out after 'em but didn't have no luck. Just plum disappeared.”  
“Hmm. Okay. Thanks.”

Once up in their room and behind closed doors, Kyle let his concerns be known.  
“Wull, what are we gonna do, Wheat?” he asked a little anxiously. “Don't that sound like Harris to you?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Wull, don't cha' think we should git after 'em?”  
“No, I don't.”  
“But why not?”  
“Cause the sheriff has gone and run him off scared!” Wheat explained. “Plus our horses are done in and I for one want a bath and a decent meal! Plus, we go spend some time down in that saloon we just might pick up a bit more information that could give us a better idea of which way to go!”  
“Yeah, I suppose.”  
“We get a decent meal, a good night's sleep and we'll head out after 'em in the morning—if it's actually Harris who done this.”  
Kyle gave a resigned sigh, though truth be known he was looking forward to food, bath and a bed too. “If you say so Wheat. I jest don't wanna be losin' 'em agin.”  
Then a knock came to the bedroom door announcing the arrival of the tub.

A couple of hours later found our two protagonists actually looking and smelling the part of civilized gentlemen. A bath and shave, some clean clothes and a decent meal all combined to change mean and nasty to clean and contented. Sidling up to the bar at the local saloon, they ordered beers and then turned around to survey their environment.  
It looked just like any of the other numerous saloons they had frequented over the months of travel and they both looked across the sea of faces hoping that something would stand out as significant. Wheat grunted; nothing was obvious. They both took a swig of their beers and checked out the one poker game that was in progress, but other than that there wasn't too much else going on. Kyle gave a toothy grin to a young, perky little gal who sashayed by them and he was actually getting serious about a proposition when Wheat suddenly elbowed him in the ribs.  
“Hey! What ya' do that fer!?”  
“Keepin' yer mind on the job is what fer!” Wheat reminded him. “Take a look over there.” He pointed his chin over towards the far corner of the saloon.  
Kyle followed the gesture and saw what had gotten his partner's attention. A young saloon gal had walked out from behind a group of patrons and was heading towards the bar to fill an order and both men leaning up against the said bar watched her coming. She wasn't really all that spectacular in any way other than that she sported a black eye and a discoloured swollen lip. Then as she got closer it also became apparent that both her wrists were red and bruised along with an upper arm. Apparently Harris had held her pretty tightly while he beat on her.  
She came up to the bar and ordered the round of drinks and waited for the bartender to get them ready. Wheat sidled down to stand beside her and took another swig from his own beer.  
“That's some black eye you're sportin' there Missy,” he commented. “How about I buy ya' a drink and you tell us how ya' got it?”  
She sent him a battle-weary glance. “I'm busy,” she brushed him off. “I already got customers. Maybe another time.”  
“No listen,” Wheat wasn't ready to give up. “my partner and me are trailin' a fella that kinda fits in real nice with what happened to you. You finish up with your other customers and then come join us at that table over there. Just want to ask ya' some questions.”  
“The sheriff already asked me questions,” she commented as she picked up the tray of newly filled beer glasses. “Why don't ya' go buy him a drink?”  
“Cause I don't think the sheriff can give us the up close and personal details that you can,” Wheat continued to push. “We'll be sittin' right over there—with a bottle. You just come on over when ya' can.”  
She sent him a bit of a smirk and then walked off with the tray of glasses, back towards the table that had ordered them. Wheat nudged Kyle in the direction of an empty table and then turned to the bar keep.  
“What she like ta' drink?” Wheat asked him.  
“Who, Annie?”  
Wheat nodded.  
“Well, she does find it hard to say 'no' to a glass of bourbon.”  
“Okay,” Wheat agreed. “So why don't you just bring us a bottle of bourbon and three glasses to that table over there.”  
“Sure.”  
Wheat deposited some more coinage onto the counter top and then followed Kyle over to settle in at the table and await their appointment.  
The two men finished their beers and were actually dipping into the bourbon when Annie finally put in an appearance. She wasn't looking too pleased about being there, but the sight of the bottle had caught her attention and she gradually talked herself into making the trip over to them. Kyle stood up and pulled out a chair for her and she sent him something that might have been considered a little bit of a smile as she sat down and waited for her drink. Wheat did not disappoint and he poured them all another round.  
Annie took her glass and downed it in one shot and placed the glass on the table in anticipation of another. Kyle sent a lopsided grin over to his partner and Wheat again did not disappoint. She downed the second one and then seemed content with that, for now.  
“So what'd ya' wanna know?” she finally asked. “Some bastard paid for sex and figured that beating me up was part of the deal—nothin' new there. Why you so interested in him?”  
“We got business of our own with that particular gent,” Wheat informed her. “If he's the same man we're lookin' for.”  
“Yeah? Well he already killed the deputy,” she stated and a look of sadness drifted over her face which she tried to hide by taking another drink. “You want my advice you stay away from that ass-hole—whatever your reason for tryin' ta' find em', it ain't good enough.”  
“Well, he done killed a friend a' ours over in Wyoming—if it's the same fella,” Wheat informed her. “I'd say that's good enough.”  
Annie snorted and looked over into Kyle's admiring blue eyes. “Look at you,” she sneered, but almost with a hint of sympathy in her voice. “You don't look like you got more 'n ten brain cells ta' rub together and you think you're gonna run down that bastard and live to tell of it?”  
Kyle's smile dropped down to a frown, thinking for sure that he had been insulted, but her kind-ish tone of voice had made it difficult for him to figure it out. “Wull, we come real close a lot of times to catchin' 'em!” Kyle insisted in his own defence. “Ain't that right Wheat!? Come real close!”  
“Yeah, well any closer and you'd both probably be dead by now.”  
“That ain't new to me,” Wheat mumbled. “You just let us worry about that part of it—all we want from you is a little bit of information.”  
Annie shrugged like it was nothin' to her and indicated her desire for another drink. Wheat did not disappoint.  
“What can I tell ya' that ya' don't already know?” she asked him. “You're the one's been trailin' 'em.”  
“We just want confirmation that we're still trailin' the right man,” Wheat explained. “So if you can just give us a description...”  
Annie shrugged again, looking disinterested. “He was average,” she said. “Average height, average looking. I suppose his hair was brown, but not too dark. Straight and long, almost down to his shoulders. His eyes—I donno. Green or blue maybe. He was too busy beaten on me to get the colour. All I saw was mean.”  
“That's it?” Wheat asked.  
She shrugged again and sighed as she thought about it some more. “I think he had a tattoo or something on his arm. Can't tell ya' what it was of though. So. That sound like the man you're looking for?”  
“Yeah could be,” Wheat nodded and poured her another drink. “Do ya' know which way he was headed when he left town?”  
“South,” she stated matter of factly. “I know cause I watched him leave, just to be sure he kept on goin'!”

Bright and early the next morning the dead man and the free man were on the trail once again, headed south. They were able to follow his progress quite easily at first because once he stopped running scared from the sheriff, Harris went right back to his favourite pass time of indulging in brutal sex. Even Wheat and Kyle, who had pretty much seen all types of personalities during their years of outlawin' were often disgusted with the living carnage they were following in the wake of this man.  
It was no wonder that he and Heyes didn't get along and that Kid was so adamant that they find him. Harris was real trouble and the partners didn't find it hard to believe at all that this bastard had been doin' hard time in the Wyoming Territorial. The fact that he had helped out with a prison escape and hadn't seemed to mind assisting with the assaults on various people fit in real well with the characteristics he was displaying now. The sooner this killer got sent back to prison the better off the general populace would be.  
A few days out on the trail found them crossing over into Kansas and then they lost the trail again. All of a sudden the string of beaten up saloon gals dried up and all they received from their enquiries of Harris was just a lot of shrugged shoulders and wagging heads. Hmm, now what? The partners didn't think it wise to split up even though doing that would of course cut their search time in half, but the other problems that might cause did not make the separation worth the risks.  
So, they stayed together and started riding in circles again seeing if they could pick up any hint of a brutal womanizer making the rounds.  
And then the weather started to turn cold again and Wheat's cough had retaken its hold on his lungs. He tried to keep himself warm but then the rains came and he felt the chill go right through him and wrap itself around his bones until he didn't think it would be possible for him to ever warm up again. Kyle was worried and hoped that Wheat was right; that there would be some more money coming to them soon and then maybe they could hold up for a few days and give his friend a chance to re-group.  
That five miles to the next town was about the longest that Kyle could remember ever having ridden. He himself could feel the dampness that came with the wind that never seemed to let up and he was just as healthy as he ever was. But Wheat? No, Wheat couldn't say the same though he'd challenge anyone to say different. But he just never did quite recover from that encounter with Marshall Morrison and with every bout of raking, dry cough that came his way he silently cursed that man who had stolen away his home, his health and the majority of his friends. His only comfort being that Wheat had done exactly the same thing to him—maybe even more so. Yeah, Wheat took some comfort from that.  
Finally, finally they had reached that next town and the first thing they did before anything else, was to send another telegram to the Kid. Hopefully he would receive it quickly and they'd have an answer back by the morning. All they could do now was wait.  
They headed over to the livery and got their horses taken care of and then followed the old routine of getting a room and trying to warm up. Wheat's cough was getting bad and Kyle took care of ordering up a tub and even spending more of their meagre funds on a bottle of whiskey in the hopes that it might help take off the chill. After a hot bath, a couple of shots of whiskey and some dry clothes both men did indeed feel better and though Wheat's cough stubbornly continued to linger he felt rejuvenated enough to head down to the cafe for some dinner.  
After dinner they headed over to the saloon, not so much for another drink as for information. Harris liked his drink and his women and the best place to get both, for cheap was at the saloon so that was the best place to sniff out any tracks he left behind, if there were any to be found at all. Unfortunately they struck out again; nobody had seen anyone of that description and all the saloon gals appeared to be intact. Our boys called it an early night and headed back to the hotel in hopes that the morning might bring better news.  
The next morning there was indeed a response to their enquiry but they were surprised to get that response from Heyes rather than Curry. Then on top of that, it was addressed to Kyle since Heyes wasn't permitted to have contact with any known criminals—even dead ones, so Wheat was being left out of the loop. The mustachioed apparition snarled over the apparent insult, but Kyle thought it was quite fine and beamed with his new sense of importance. That is until he looked at the telegram and remembered that he couldn't read.  
“Ahh, what's it say, Wheat?” Kyle asked his partner a little sheepishly.  
Wheat snarled again and snatched the paper away from him. “Well, say's here to keep after 'em, no matter what.” Here Wheat snorted, thinking that was an easy thing for Heyes to say since he wasn't the one traipsing around out here in this damp, bone numbing cold looking for a brutal murderer. Then he took a page from Heyes' book and laughed a little sardonically as he read the next bit. “Yeah! Be careful! Could be real dangerous...” Wheat laughed again. “Yeah, no shit, Heyes!....” Then he turned serious again and nodded in approval. “Says here they're gonna wire us some more money. Should be at the bank tomorrow afternoon.”  
“That's good news,” Kyle chirped in. “I'm runnin' outa chewin' tabacca!”  
“Hmm,” Wheat obviously didn't care about Kyle's 'chewin' tabacca'. “I guess we're stuck here for a couple of days. Probably for the better—looks like it's gonna rain. Again.”  
Unfortunately Wheat's weather forecast was wrong. It didn't rain—it snowed. Wheat could usually tell by the smell in the air when snow was on the way, but this climate was so different from what he was used to that even the snow down here was too wet to smell like snow. Hell! No wonder Heyes and the Kid had left this miserable State—or was it a territory? Whatever! Wheat didn't like it much and his damaged body liked it even less.  
By that afternoon Wheat's head was pounding and by the time evening came upon them he skipped dinner altogether and went straight to his bed. By the next morning Wheat was sick as a dog and though he was conscious and aware, he was miserable. The coughing spells that attacked him racked his lungs and ripped apart his throat not to mention bringing such a pounding to his already aching head that he was sure his skull must explode from the pressure.  
Kyle waited impatiently for the much needed funds to arrive so he could get the town doctor in to take a look at the sick man and hopefully give him something to help calm the coughing down. Wheat just grumbled with irritation. They didn't need to be wasting money on no damn saw bones! He was fine! He just needed a day or two in bed to get the chill outa his bones, that was all. Didn't need no damn doctor!  
Fortunately by the time the money did arrive that afternoon, Wheat was so sick that he was barely able to acknowledge the doctor coming to examine him, let alone lay in a protest. Kyle stood awkwardly at the foot of the bed while the learned gentleman completed his exam. He listened quite extensively to his patient's lungs while at the same time taking note of the numerous scars pockmarking the man's chest but being a discretionary medical man he chose not to pass judgement.  
Finally he sighed and put his stethoscope away. “Has this man had pneumonia before?” he finally asked the anxious friend.  
“Wull yeah,” Kyle answered nervously. “Ain't we all?”  
The Doc sent him a scrutinizing look from under his bushy white eye brows. “Not everyone,” he stated. “And this man's lungs have been very badly damaged,” he sent another glance over the numerous scars. “and not just from illness.”  
Kyle shuffled his feet uncomfortably, not wanting to get into those particular details. “Wull—he's gonna be fine, ain't he?”  
“I think we have caught it in time,” the doctor assured the friend. “as long as he stays warm and in bed and you get a spoonful of this into him every four hours or so. Think you can do that?”  
Kyle grinned with relief as he took the offered bottle. “Yeah, sure Doc. I can do that.”  
“Good.” The doc stood up with another sigh and this time sent the patient his scrutinizing look. “He's not a healthy man at the best of times,” he observed. “He's done serious damaged to those lungs and he can't afford to get hit with a bad bout of pneumonia—it would kill him sure as shootin'.” And then inwardly cringed at his poor choice of words. He quickly recovered however. “This climate is not going to do him any favours. You might suggest to him that he move someplace warmer and dryer—some place out west would be better for him, I'm sure.”  
Kyle grinned. “Yeah Doc, thanks. I'll be sure ta' mention that to 'em.”  
“Good!” the doctor seemed satisfied with that answer and started to head for the door. “You just make sure he stays warm and dry—and in bed! I'll come back tomorrow afternoon to check up on him.”  
“Yeah Doc, I'll be sure ta' do that.”  
Kyle closed the door behind the doctor and then going over to the dresser he got himself a fresh chaw of tobacco and popped it into his mouth then turned and smiled at his sleeping friend. He moved over to the one chair in the room and settled into with a contented sigh. Then, still chewing on his habit he again looked over at Wheat and the smile slowly dropped from his face. What the hell was he supposed to do now? For a man who couldn't read, nurse maiden' a sick friend didn't offer much up in the way of entertainment.

Heyes was getting bored, restless, snarky, frustrated, angry, irritated, then back to bored again then frustrated but in the end, irritated seemed to be winning the day. He was going after the piles of semi-frozen manure with a vengeance that many people, including Harris would have recognized. How had Kid put up with this!? Five bloody boring years of mucking stalls and mending fences! My God! How had he done it!?  
Even inside the lined gloves Heyes' fingers were still feeling numb, especially after having to take an axe to the water troughs in order to break up the ice that had formed over night. Then he'd had to remove his gloves and fish out the pieces of floating ice with his bare hands in order to free up the water so the livestock could drink. He had done this job as quickly as he could but even after drying his red and freezing hands on some burlap and quickly nestling them inside his gloves again hadn't done much to warm them up.  
Dammit! He hated this! He wanted out! He needed to move! Needed to be going, somewhere—anywhere! The conditions of his parole were starting to drive him looney bins. Kenny was right; Heyes was no rancher and he wondered how much longer he would be able to stand living like this!  
The Thanksgiving dance had been a dismal failure! Well, actually no; that wasn't true. Heyes simply chose to see it that way. Abi was gone and had basically given him the boot though truth be known Heyes certainly had asked for it and he knew that. Of course knowing it though only proved to make him more angry and resentful and frustrated. He wanted to be with her so badly, why had he behaved like such as ass!?  
And then there was Miranda at the dance wearing that very fine green satin dress. Oh my! What right did she have to look so beautiful? She had caught his eye from across the room and his heart had melted. Then she smiled at him and his heart broke. He wanted to be with her so badly! Why had he let her push him away? Why couldn't he take control and sweep her off her feet and make her love him, make her want him?  
And then there was Abi.....

Heyes attacked the straw with the pitch fork, throwing it in heaps down from the loft and into the various stalls. He attacked the coarse stocks, cursing and grinding his teeth in his impotent anger. Before he knew it his hands had warmed up and he was actually sweating under his heavy winter clothing but he kept on attacking the barn chores and cursing his life until by chance he heard the jingling of horse's harnesses and the barking of the ranch dogs. Someone was here. Heyes grinned from dimple to dimple; he knew who it was—finally! And in that knowing his foul mood disappeared and he made a dash for the barn door.  
“Hannibal!” Jesse yelled somewhat needlessly. “Jed’s back!”  
Heyes was already out of the barn and up to the wagon, practically pulling Jed from the seat and giving him a quick bear hug and then a slap on the back. “Hey hey! Partner!” Heyes greeted him, practically jumping up and down in his excitement. “Finally! It's great to see ya'!”  
“Yeah, I can tell Heyes,” Kid responded, but he was grinning himself and obviously just as pleased. “I kinda missed you too.”  
“Yeah yeah,” Heyes was laughing, still holding onto his partner's arm. “I've been going crazy here Kid! Oh man! It is so good to see ya'!” Then he forced himself to calm down a little and his eyes turned serious. “Did everything go as planned? Is everyone alright?”  
“Yeah Heyes,” Kid assured him. “You got my telegram, didn't ya'?”  
“Well, yeah...it's just...” Then he looked his cousin straight in the eye and Jed saw such a mixture of emotions there. “Did you see...her?”  
Kid dropped his smile then and put a hand on Heyes' shoulder. “Yeah Heyes, I met her.” Then his blue eyes sparkled up again as he looked over at Jesse. “Let's get inside first okay? It's freezin' out here!” He gave his cousin's shoulder a reassuring pat. “Everything went fine Heyes.”  
Heyes nodded and accepted that for the time being.  
“It's good to have you back home again Jed,” Jesse told him. “Hannibal and I were starting to get on each other's nerves—just the two of us, and a cat—rattling around in a big empty ranch house. C'mon inside and warm up. There's a pretty good stew still simmering on the stove if you're hungry at all.”  
Heyes laughed, still excited to have his cousin back home. “Kid's always hungry!”  
“Yeah well, this time I gotta agree with ya' Heyes,” Kid acknowledged. “I am feelin' a might peckish.”  
Sam got down from the wagon seat and moved up to the horses' heads, bringing Jed's carpet bag with him. Jesse took the one piece of luggage from him and then smiled at the young man.  
“Do you fancy a coffee and some stew yourself before you head back to town?”  
Sam shrugged, looking around at the snowy landscape. “Sure, why not?” He then untied the lead shank from the near horse and led the team over to the hitching rail by the barn. It was cold out but not wet so they would be fine tethered there for half an hour or so.  
Jesse gestured towards the house with his head. “Come into the kitchen, that’ll give this pair a chance to catch up.”  
Once inside the house everyone helped themselves to a bowl of stew and some bread that Heyes had made the day before. It was nothing like Belle's delicious offerings but in times of hardship, one must make do. Everyone poured out a coffee for themselves and then true to his word, Jesse and Sam stayed to enjoy their lunch in the kitchen, allowing Heyes and Kid to settle in at the dinning table and talk in some privacy.  
Heyes fixed the Kid with intense dark eyes. “So everyone’s safe?”  
The Kid sat down wearily. “Yeah. I’m sure glad to be back though; that was a long journey, doing it round trip like that.”  
Heyes took a seat opposite and bit into his lip. “Well, c'mon Kid. You said you saw her, right? Is she...well, I mean is she......?” Heyes got stuck for words, envy and jealousy struggling for dominance.  
The Kid’s eyes softened. “Aw, Heyes, she’s a heart-breaker. Just the most beautiful little girl I ever laid eyes on.” He leaned forward. “I gave her a hug for you. I called her ‘Anya’ just before I left, and told her I was there when her pa chose that name for her. She knows her pa would love her and be the proudest man on earth. I made sure I told her that.” He sat back. “She was happy to know that, Heyes.”  
Heyes gave a rasping sigh, and blinked back his emotions before he stared down at the floor. Now curiosity was battling for the top rung and it finally won out. “What’s she like?” he asked in an intense whisper. “Is she as clever as Abi said?”  
“Sharp as a razor,” the Kid smiled. “I think I fell in love, which is a bit worryin’, because she’s so like you it’s scary.”  
Heyes sat back, pensively. “She looked like Abi in the photograph, except for the dimples.”  
The Kid shook his head. “She’s real dark like her ma, and her eyes are like Abi’s, but she’s got your nose, dimples and mouth; but that ain’t the half of it. Every movement and gesture is you. There’s no denyin’, the apple didn’t fall far from that tree.”  
Heyes frowned. “She's got my nose?”  
Jed smiled. “Yeah Heyes, but don't worry about it; on her it's cute—perky.”  
Heyes' brows went up. “Perky?”  
Jed grinned even more. “Yeah!” Then he laughed. “Who’d have thought your ugly mug would have made such a pretty girl? I suppose that face had to work somewhere.” The smile dropped from his expression then, his tone suddenly earnest. “I’m gonna speak to Abi, Heyes. I’m gonna make sure you meet Anya real soon. It’s only right.”  
Heyes’ shoulders slumped hopelessly. “I think you’re going to find that more difficult than you imagine Kid.” Jed's brow furrowed and his eyes asked the question. Heyes sighed and then explained. “She’s gone – and she’s not coming back.”  
The Kid’s brows knotted even further in consternation. “Gone? I thought the deal was that she'd stay and help out here. I was goin’ to come back and we'd all work together at figuring this thing out.”  
“Things changed, Kid. It went bad.”  
The Kid’s eyes narrowed, guessing that he was not going to be surprised by anything he was about to hear. “Bad?” he asked suspiciously. “How bad?”  
Heyes gave a huge sigh and played with his stew for a few minutes. Jed waited patiently; it was coming. “I beat her real bad, Kid.” Heyes finally whispered. “She needed stitches.”  
The Kid suppressed the involuntary gasp dancing around his lips. “What happened Heyes?” he asked quietly. “What did you do?”  
“She came in on a nightmare. I didn’t know it was her, Kid. I half strangled her and punched her in the face.”  
The Kid nodded; this he could relate to. “Abi’s not unreasonable, Heyes. She’ll understand once I tell her about your nightmares. I’ll go and talk to her.”  
Heyes pushed his bowl away from him,sending it skidding towards the Kid. Jed put out a hand and stopped it from crashing to the floor and then looked back to his cousin. Heyes' jaw was tight, along with his throat, anger and regret smouldering in his dark eyes. “She already does know – she was great about it, but that doesn’t stop me feeling like a worm.” Then he looked a little sheepish—just a little “That’s not all, though,” he admitted.  
“Yeah?” the Kid asked, cautiously. “What else happened Heyes?”  
“Me!” Heyes declared , defensively. “Why does it always have to be me?” Then he looked down at the table and mumbled; “She poured gravy over my head!”  
The Kid folded his arms trying to look reproachful but fighting to stifle a laugh all the same. “Why?” He was finally able to enquire.  
“What do you mean; ‘why?” Heyes demanded. “I thought that would be obvious!”  
“She swore to me she’d be on her best behaviour because you needed patience. From what I saw before I left, she was holdin’ to that.” The Kid tilted his head considering what he knew about both these confounding people. “You on the other hand... let’s just say she’d have needed to have patience. If you’d treated me the way I saw you treating her, I’d have socked you on the jaw, Heyes. What else did you do?”  
Heyes’ dark eyes dropped again. This was proving to be difficult. It had all seemed so reasonable to him at the time, but to hear Kid say he’d have thrown a punch at him, brought him up sharply.  
The Kid pressed on, knowing there was more to this little adventure than his cousin was letting on. “What did you do, Heyes?”  
“I dunked her in the horse trough,” came the mumbled response.  
The Kid sat back with a smile and a chuckle forming in his throat. “It must have been freezin’!”  
“It was,” Heyes groaned. “She pulled me in after her.”  
The chuckle grew into a snort of hilarity. “Good for her! You two act like that all the time though,” Jed reasoned. “she’ll get over it.”  
Heyes reached into his pocket and pulled out Abigail’s letter. “She’s gone and she’s not coming back. She met Randa, and she knows.”  
The Kid reached over and took the proffered letter. “So? You were seein’ a woman. That ain’t a crime. You haven’t seen Abi for ten years.”  
Heyes nodded and gave a regretful sigh. “That’s what she said.”  
The Kid’s brow wrinkled in curiosity. “So, she forgave you for hittin’ her, and she said it was fine for you to see Randa – what’s the problem?”  
“Read the letter, Kid.”  
Heyes sat in silence watching his partner digest the contents of Abigail’s letter, fidgeting distractedly until a pair of contemplative blue eyes looked into his.  
“She’s givin’ you permission to get on with your life. I’d say this was written by a woman tryin’ to give you the easy way out.” The Kid tapped his fingers absently on the arm of the chair. “She didn’t mean to hurt you, Heyes. She dropped in unexpectedly on a man who’d been writin’ to her for years. I really don’t think she’d have come if she’d known how you’d react. She’s smart enough to find another way.”  
“I know that,” Heyes ran his hand through his hair.  
“So she’s left the way clear for Randa. What’s the problem?”  
Just then Jesse and Sam put in an appearance and made their way towards the front door and coat rack.  
“I'm going to head into town with Sam,” Jesse informed them. “Help him with supplies. Can you boys make sure the horses get brought in for the night?”  
“Sure Jesse, no problem,” came the unified response.  
“Good,” Jesse and Sam headed out the door. “See you in a few hours!”  
Heyes and Jed locked eyes for a second; they both knew that Jesse was only heading in to town in order to give them some more time to talk. They both smiled. Jed got up and went into the kitchen, returning momentarily with the coffee pot. He replenished both their cups, took the pot back to simmer on the stove top and returned to sit down again. Heyes avoided his eyes, tracing his finger along an invisible figure eight on the table.  
“So,” Jed reiterated, bringing his cousin's attention back to him. “what's the problem Heyes? You like Miranda don't you?”  
“Randa decided to put things on hold. She could see there was unfinished business with Abi.”  
The Kid arched his eyebrows. “Hmm, so basically both of them have backed off. One has told you to make up your mind, and the other thinks you already have, and headed for the hills.”  
“That’s about the size of it, Kid.”  
Jed laughed again, even though he knew this was hard on his friend. “Nothin's easy with you is it Heyes?” Then he shook his head and sobering up, sat quietly and contemplated the man sitting across from him. “So? What about you?” he finally asked. “What do you want? If it’s Randa, the way’s clear. Go to her, tell her.” The Kid watched his cousin nervously pick away at some scratch on the table. “What’s stoppin’ you?”  
Heyes fixed the Kid with swirling eyes. “I don’t know. I just don’t know! Why does everything have to be so hard? Why can’t everybody just let me get on with my life!?”  
The Kid watched his cousin struggle with his anger and frustration and then he gently reached out and placed a hand on top of Heyes' fidgeting one, calming him. Heyes looked up at him with dark eyes full of anguish. “Heyes, let’s just try to make this a bit more simple, huh? It seems to me that if you wanted Randa, you’d ride into town and tell her, so there’s something stoppin’ you.”  
“There is,” Heyes whispered.  
“So what is that, Heyes? You’re trying to juggle too many questions at once. You used to be real good at that, and you will be again; but right now you’ve got to think in straight lines – just until you’re yourself again. Think of the answer to that one question – what’s stoppin’ you goin’ to Randa and takin’ her in your arms like a man who’s been in prison for five years?”  
Heyes sat back, breathing heavily, staring into space.  
“Talk to me, Heyes. I think you know the answer, but you’re scared of it.”  
Heyes shook his head. “All that time... It’s been ten years, Kid.”  
The Kid drew his chair closer to Heyes’,staring straight into his eyes. “What are you scared of? Just say it.”  
Heyes swallowed nervously, pursing his lips and then finally he forced himself to voice that inner fear. “She hurt me so badly, Kid. I just couldn’t take that, not now. Not when I’m like this.”  
“So all of that – ignorin’ her, bein’ so angry – that was because you were afraid of bein’ hurt again?”  
“I guess,” muttered Heyes and he looked away from the Kid's gaze, almost feeling ashamed of himself.  
The Kid gave a heavy sigh. “Heyes, forget about all the fear, the complications, and the doubts. You must have had a dream of how your life would look when you got out. What did that look like to you?”  
Heyes let out a rasping breath. He didn’t want to put his mind back in that place, but Kid wasn’t going to tolerate any of the behaviour he’d unleashed on Abigail. He forced himself to focus on the dark corners he only visited in nightmares. “Family,” he rasped. “Being a father to Anya, and living a proper life with Abi. I never loved anyone like I loved her... but that was only a dream. I don't even know if I'm capable of living that kind of life.”  
The Kid nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe, maybe not. But that dream kept you goin’, Heyes. I think we can both see now why she did what she did; you two are hard to control – and you know as well as I do that you’d never have stayed away if you’d known where they were. What if Anya had been caught up in it when we were arrested?” The Kid laid a comforting hand on Heyes’ arm. “She lives a happy, normal life, Heyes – no stigma, no danger, and no complications. She’s blossomin’. If that’s what you want, you need to go for it. Abi didn’t toss you out because she hated you, she was protectin’ Anya. There’s no need for that anymore.”  
“I know...”  
“It seems to me like everybody has left you to make up your mind.”  
“She was pushing me at Randa,” Heyes pointed out with a touch of anger. “She covered for me and tried to make out there was nothing between us. She wouldn’t do that if she wanted me.”  
“Wouldn’t she?” Jed demanded. “I saw how you were with her. She’s a proud woman – do you really think she’d throw herself at a man who was behavin’ like he couldn’t stand the sight of her?”  
Heyes rubbed his face with both hands. “She’s gone. She’s not coming back. Oh, God, Kid, I’ve really messed everything up. She came to help, and I pitched her into a horse trough before I beat her senseless!” Then he stopped and stared off into empty space. “Randa said she didn't want me to commit to her if I had any doubts. That she didn't want me to be wondering if I could have made it work with someone else, if only I had tried that one last time. And she was right. I’ll always wonder if Abi and I really could have made it work if I could just give it that one last try—I'll wonder about it for the rest of my days.”  
“Then maybe ya' need to give it that one last try.” Then Kid patted Heyes’ arm and chuckled lightly. “I wish I’d seen her pull you in, I really do!” He stood decisively. “Where is she? Has she gone home?”  
Heyes shook his head. “No, she’s gone off after a man called ‘Mitch,’ and I have no idea where she is. Harry went after her to bring her back, and nobody’s seen hide nor hair of him since. You know what she’s like when she gets an idea in her head, she won’t let up. He’s probably stuck with her.”  
“Why this ‘Mitch? What makes her think it’s him?’” asked The Kid.  
“Instinct, I guess. I’m worried though, this ‘Mitch’ fits Harris’ description perfectly, right down to the tattoo of a dagger on his right arm.”  
“Harris? The prisoner from the jailbreak?” the Kid demanded.  
“Yup, I’m sure it’s him.”  
“But why?” The Kid shook his head in confusion. “Why would he want to harm Beth?”  
“I have no idea, but he’d kill a woman as quick as look at her. I’m worried sick, but I have no way of even getting in touch.”  
The Kid wandered over to the window, staring out aimlessly at the snow. “I wouldn't worry too much about that Heyes,” he assured his partner. “Steven and I hired Kyle and Wheat to track down Harris shortly after he escaped from the prison.”  
“Ya' did?” Heyes was confused. “Why?”  
“It started out us wanting to get evidence that you didn't kill Doc Morin,” Jed explained. “Harris was the only one who could clear ya'.”  
“Oh,” Heyes nodded his understanding.  
“Then when you got your parole, well there was still some question as to who had murdered the doctor so I told Wheat and Kyle to stay on him.” Jed sighed and folding his arms he turned back to face his cousin again. “Now if you're right and Mitch and Harris are one and the same—then—oh geesh! We really do have to find him! That man is dangerous!”  
Heyes nodded emphatically. “You got that right! And you sent Wheat and Kyle after him?”  
“Well...” Kid shrugged in his own defence. “just to track him Heyes. Not to try and capture him.”  
“Oh good,” Heyes was relieved. “Do you know where they are?”  
“Last I heard they had tracked him into Nebraska and then were heading into Kansas,” Kid informed him.  
Heyes nodded. “That would make sense,” he said. “Abi had received information that Mitch was heading for Missouri so that's where she and Harry headed. Dammit!!” And he slapped the table in frustration. “Why couldn't she leave me a way to get in touch with her!?”  
Jed shook his head, waving Heyes' concerns away. “Harry’ll be in touch, at the very least, and the next time Wheat gets in touch I'll let them know to be on the look out for them. We also know where Abi lives. If she's in that area she's bound to go home eventually and then I’ll talk to her.” Kid hesitated at this point, almost scared to ask the next question, but knowing that he had to. “Do you think that bullet was meant for you?”  
Heyes gave a heavy sigh. “I sure hope so. I want you and Beth to have a happy life. I owe you that. I don’t know how I would have survived without you.”  
Kid turned. “They’re safe now, and we’ll get to the bottom of this. Think hard on what you want, Heyes. If you want to give it another go with Abi, she needs to know it, and I’ll be happy to help. She’s a good detective, but even she could be forgiven for not pickin’ up on the clues you were givin’ her.”  
Heyes laughed despite himself and then nodded in agreement. He had behaved like such a fool—a scared, lonely and defensive fool. Then he sobered again and stared down at his hands that were resting on the table.  
“Kid?” he finally asked. “How'd ya' do it?”  
“Do what Heyes?”  
“Almost five years.” Brown eyes full of sadness met blue eyes full of wonder. “You were living a prison term just a surely as I was, but you did it voluntarily. How'd ya' do it Kid?”  
Jed came back to the table and sat down. “I had a mission Heyes, and besides that, it wasn't all that hard for me to stay put,” he admitted. “I was always the one who wanted to settle down on some land, be part of a family again—you know that.” Heyes nodded. Jed sighed and thought about his situation. “I love Beth, I really do,” he smiled with reminiscence. “Who would have thought that scrawny little tomboy would end up takin' hold 'a my heart like that?' Then he turned serious again and looked solemnly into his cousin's eyes. “I want to settle down with her, have some land and build on that. I want to have children with her. Is that such a bad thing to want Heyes?”  
“No!” Heyes was quick to assure. “I envy you that. I'm not sure I can do that. I'm in love with two different women and I don't even know if I'm capable of settling down with either one of them! I just...I know I want to! But the last six or seven months I've been trapped here—Ohhh Kid, I'm starting to go nuts! It scares me.”  
Jed furrowed his brow. “It scares ya'? Why?”  
“It's like I'm not able to settle anywhere,” Heyes said softly. “You know me, I always have to be going somewhere—I always have to be challenging something! I don't think that's normal. Do you think that's normal?”  
Kid laughed, but quickly stifled it, knowing that Heyes was being serious and that he was indeed, scared. “It's normal for you Heyes,” Jed finally pointed out. “You know, I think one of the reasons you're feeling restless is because you haven't been able to find anything that matters enough to you to make you want to settle down.” Heyes just sat, looking into space and Jed realized that he needed to elaborate. “Heyes, you got so many things goin' on inside of ya' right now. Why do you feel that you have to solve all of them in this instance? One thing at a time, ya' know? Even your brain can't handle all these things at once. You're not trapped here on the ranch.”  
Heyes snorted. “Yeah, I may as well be. I can't go anywhere without permission! I may as well be back in prison!”  
Jed sat back and sent his cousin a reprimanding look. “There is no way you are going to convince me that living here is the same as being in prison! C'mon Heyes!” Kid was suddenly on his feet again and pacing but he still had Heyes locked down in a gaze that wouldn't waver. “Stop being so cynical, alright? Sure you got some restrictions on ya' but they're livable! And nobody's whippin' on ya'! You got people here who care about ya' Heyes—and you know that!”  
“Yeah, yeah—alright!” Heyes figured out pretty quickly that he wasn't going to get away with that self-pitying drivel with his cousin. “I guess I just don't know what I want,” he finally admitted. “I envy you Kid, that's all. You know what you want in your life now, and you know who you want to spend it with,” he shrugged, shaking his head. “I just feel lost and so....indecisive.”  
Jed was back in his chair again, running both hands through his curls. A heavy sigh escaped him.  
“One thing at a time Heyes. I've had five years to figure all this stuff out, you've just begun,” Jed reiterated. “Let me talk to Abi, let me explain some of this to her.” Heyes frowned, looking like he was about to refuse. “Just—let me see if she'll come back just to talk to ya'! No demands, no expectations—just talk! Maybe it'll help ya' to clear some things up in your own mind, help ya' find yourself again—to be able to decide.”  
Heyes hesitated again, but his tightened jaw softened as he considered the Kid's words and then finally his stance relaxed. He looked up at his friend, meeting his eyes and then he nodded.  
“Yeah Kid, alright.”

Two hunched figures rode into the wind, the snow mixing with hard pellets of hail which stung the skin, and made the riders pull down their hats and cover their faces with bandanas. The taller one pointed, yelling against the swirling blizzard. “There’s a homestead over there! We’ve got to take cover. We can’t go on in this!”  
The smaller of the pair nodded, tugging her reins to turn in the direction of the building. The storm intensified, greying out the visibility until they became mere shadows in the frozen, pallid landscape.  
Abigail hammered at the door, her brows gathering in consternation at the lack of response. She paused, listening hard against the door before. “Is there anybody there?” she yelled. She wandered over to the window, and glanced in, sucking in a breath at what she saw. She darted a look at the barn, where Harry was tending to the horses, making a snap decision. No, this couldn’t wait. She drew her gun and strode over to the door, standing to the side as she released the latch, allowing the door to swing open. She waited with baited breath before swinging into the little building, and stood with her back to the wall, scanning every corner for danger.  
The place was in total disarray. Seats were toppled over, pots and dishes were strewn on the floor, but Abigail’s eyes were drawn the body on the floor. Congealed blood pooled around the man’s head from the gash in his throat. His gaping mouth was still open in his last rictus scream, but the opaque, sunken eyes spoke volumes of how long he had lain there. About two days, Abigail’s educated guess told her, now she’d had a closer look.  
She holstered her gun, glancing at the woman on the bed, the pulled up dress revealing the nature of her intimate attack. She strode over, gently rearranging the woman’s clothing. The least she deserved was some dignity after this horror. Abigail clutched the fabric of her cheap dress, dragging it down to protect her from prying eyes, and looked down at her pale, waxen face, understanding the brutality she had suffered. The woman’s hands were bound to the bed frame and she looked very young; no more than twenty.  
Abigail guessed the murdered man was her husband, killed first to allow whoever did this to take his time with her. She cursed her worst Gaelic oath under her breath and reached out a hand, stroking the woman’s cheek, stopping stock-still. She wasn’t cold! Yes, sure, she wasn’t warm, but she didn’t have that marble-cold chill of a cadaver. Abigail leaned over, testing for the weak breath, and stood up in shock. This woman must have lain here for at least as long as the dead man; Abigail scanned her for injury and quickly identified the stab wound to her upper abdomen. Some bastard had left her to die a slow, agonizing death.  
She sliced through the ropes and bustled over to the range. Water the woman needed water – and morphine. Was there any? An abdominal injury? No, she couldn’t give her water – perhaps just moisten her mouth.  
“What the hell!?” Harry stood at the door like a statue.  
“Sorry, I didn’t have time to fetch you. I saw the blood and went in. She’s still alive – just.”  
“You went in? What if he’d still been in here?”  
“Then he’d be dead, Harry. I’ve done this before, remember?” Abigail was pouring water into a cup and into a bowl. “Can you get rid of the body?”  
“Where?”  
“An outhouse, a barn – anywhere but here.” Abigail dripped water gently over the woman’s lips before cradling her head. “She’s been raped and left to die, poor love. Search the place; please bring me anything to kill pain. She needs it.

The man’s body had been shifted to the lean-to where logs and various tools were stored – the barn was deemed unsuitable so as not to disturb the animals – which had been frantic for food and fresh water. The floor had been scrubbed of its gore, and Abigail had washed the injured woman and then dressed her in clean clothes, but the place still had a depressing air. The woman was beyond help, especially as it was twenty miles to the nearest town in a terrible snowstorm. Both Abigail and Harry knew that it was only a matter of time, and that was running out fast.  
The family Bible had told them she was called Sarah Winters. The water had been reviving, and the laudanum numbed the pain. She had moments where she saw her husband waiting for her, beckoning her; and as that gave her comfort, neither Harry nor Abigail saw fit to disabuse her of that notion.  
The woman clutched weakly Abigail’s hand. “One more Christmas…” She sucked in a rasping breath. “We were looking forward… our first married Christmas.”  
Abigail smiled softly. “How did you meet?”  
“At school,” Sarah’s eyes flickered closed, “I’ve known Jeff all my life.”  
Abigail tucked Sarah’s arm under the blanket, gulping down the knot in her throat. “You’re tired, try to rest.”  
“Don’t go!” Sarah whispered, desperately.  
“I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here with you, Sarah. You’re not alone.”  
Sarah gave a little nod and let her painful, laboured breathing become her only movement. The muscles around her throat stood out whenever her chest rose, her body desperately gulping in air. The gaps in between the breaths gradually widened, and Sarah slipped deeper and deeper into unconsciousness, the air sometimes catching the vocal cords like a murmur of despair.  
Abigail sat with her until the end. It was about three o’clock in the morning when she finally stood up and gently pulled the sheet over Sarah’s face.  
Harry stirred on his bedroll. “She’s gone?”  
“Yes,” Abigail sighed. “We’ve got to find him, Harry. I reckon we’re closing in, but he’s still about two days ahead of us.”  
“All for a fresh horse,” muttered Harry, glancing over to the covered form on the bed.  
“At least she was able to describe him. We’ll leave the bodies with the law in the next town. I don’t think there’s any doubt he was the man who was after Beth, now. We just have to put a stop to this and find out why.”  
“We’ll get him, Abi.” Harry lay back down and turned on his side. “Get some sleep. We have to get on once this storm drops.”

It was a good ten days before Wheat was well enough for the doctor to give permission for them to head out onto the trail again. And then it was only granted with strict instructions for the patient to keep taking his medicine and to make sure he stayed warm and dry. Yeah, right. Good luck with that in this miserable climate!  
Kyle tended to hover like an old mother hen and Wheat tended to grumble like an old bear but they still managed to get on the road and put some miles between themselves and that town that had given them nothing but headaches. They'd even managed to get some more money out of that lawyer fella and they didn't even have to lie about why they needed it!  
Unfortunately, just as when they had headed into that town, when they finally headed out again the weather wasn't the only thing that was still cold. Harris had completely disappeared and the two friends were back to riding in circles in the hopes of finding some lead to follow.  
Trotting into yet another cold, damp and discoloured town somewhere inside the heart of Kansas, the fellas' spirits were feeling just as damp and unfortunate as the town that surrounded them. They dismounted stiff and slowly in front of the livery stable in the hopes of getting the horses tended to and then get some hot food into themselves. Unfortunately as is so often the case, things did not go as planned and a soft bed and the anticipated hot meal was going to come to them at a price.  
The two men stood around for a few moments, stamping their cold feet and looking around for the hostler but that fine businessman was no where to be seen. The horses stomped and snorted their warm breath into the cold air while Wheat tightened up the collar around his throat and began to cough and then curse the fact that he was coughing again.  
“Where the hell is that lazy, no good....don't he know he's got a business to run?”  
“Mebee he's gone off ta' git his dinner too,” Kyle suggested, always willing to give the other fella the benefit of the doubt.  
Wheat just snorted. “Here,” he said as he handed Kyle the reins to his horse. “You wait here and I'll go send that telegram to Kid to let 'em know where we are.”  
“Yeah, okay Wheat.”  
Wheat stomped his feet one more time and coughed into his hands and then with a disgruntled sniff, headed across the street towards the telegraph office. Kyle gave a dejected sigh as he watched his friend walking away. He stomped his own feet and began to pace around in a circle with his hands, still holding onto the double sets of reins, tucked into his arm pits in the hopes of warming them up at least a little bit. The two horses stood patiently, both of them sitting down on a back hoof and playing with their bits.  
Kyle began to search the street, up and down the block hoping to catch sight of the livery man but wasn't having too much luck with that. He took note of some of the other people who were out and about on this damp and chilly afternoon but none of them stood out as being of any importance to him and he basically dismissed them. It was then when he took his attention away from the far distance to focus on things in closer proximity that he locked eyes with the very man who had been so elusive up until this instant.  
Harris had been trotting his horse up to the entrance to the livery barn when he found himself staring into the startled blue eyes of a very familiar face. He pulled his horse up in surprise and did a quick scan of the street himself before he faced forward again and acknowledged the former convict.  
“Hey Murtry,” Harris greeted him, though it came out as a snarl. “Sure didn't expect to see you in these parts.”  
“Oh yeah...hi'ya Harris,” Kyle was looking nervous, he didn't care much for confronting Harris all on his lonesome. “How ya' doin'?”  
Harris was suspicious, taking note of the two horses that Kyle was holding onto and knowing that where Murtry stood Carlson probably wasn't far away.  
“What you doin' around these parts, Murtry?” Harris asked him. “And where's your partner?”  
“Oh, we's just on a job down here fer some lawyer fella,” Kyle never was good at lying so he tended to simply fall back on some semblance of the truth. “Wheat's just over there, sendin' 'em a telegram.”  
“Oh yeah?” Harris responded, though his attention was no longer on the little man; he was looking around and over his shoulder, not wanting to give Carlson the opportunity to come up on him from behind. He pulled on the reins of his horse, getting the animal to start backing up away from the livery and out into the street again. “See ya' around Murtry.”  
“Yeah, ah—take care a' yerself.”  
Harris reached the street, turned his horse's head north and nudged him into a trot. Kyle breathed a sigh of relief and began to search in the direction of the telegraph office in hopes of seeing Wheat returning. Suddenly the cold trail had become very hot.  
Then Kyle had just enough time to catch a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye when he heard the thumping of horses hooves coming at a run through snow and then onto wood and a loud crack and a flash of fire grabbed his senses. A bullet slammed into the wooden door right behind the ex-convict and Kyle ducked and clutching his head he dashed forward to get in between the two now dancing horses.  
Another rifle shot quickly followed upon the echo of the first and the already nervous and blowing horses began to rear backwards and tried to pull away but Kyle stayed with them, hoping to use them for cover. This plan began to backfire however as the horses panicked even more and Kyle found himself in real danger of being trampled. Then Harris' horse was on top of them, plunging headlong into Kyle's little bay and knocking the animal off it's feet.  
Kyle went sprawling into the muddy snow, just barely making it out from under the falling animal and saving himself from being crushed. Suddenly the air was filled with panicked equine screams and thrashing hooves scrambling for a foothold in the slippery muck. Wheat's horse pulled away from Kyle's grasp and rearing up, it over balanced and with it's hind feet sliding out from under him, he toppled over backwards and hitting the ground so hard he managed to break the tree of his saddle, rendering it useless.  
Harris pulled his own horse out from the fray and then bringing his rifle to bear he took aim at the little man scrambling to get to his feet and draw his own hand gun. Fortunately for Kyle, Wheat had heard the ruckus and was coming at the run with his own revolver in hand and taking aim at the largest object in his sights. He pulled the trigger and Harris' horse let out a quiet snorting squeal and instantly ducked away from the burning pain caused by the bullet nicking him across the top of his neck.  
The action wasn't much but it was enough to spoil Harris' aim and he had to scramble simply to bring his injured horse back under control. By that time Kyle had his revolver out and was taking pot shots in Harris' general direction, so that along with Wheat also coming at him made the fugitive decide to head for some other parts. He pulled his horse around, and taking a shot at Wheat to slow him down, he spurred his frantic animal into a gallop and headed for the outskirts of town.  
Wheat carried on across the street, cursing under his breath as he came up on his partner and pulled him the rest of the way to his feet.  
“Dammit Kyle!” Wheat reprimanded him. “Why'd ya' let 'em see ya'!”  
“Wull—I didn't know he was there Wheat!” Kyle tried to defend himself. “He come up on me afore I knowed he was there!”  
“Now he knows we're after 'em!” Wheat stated the obvious. “Dammit! C'mon! Stop wasting time—let's go!”  
“But Wheat.....”  
And Kyle kinda gestured towards the two horses that were standing in the middle of the street looking rather woebegone. Both horses were wet and covered in mud while Wheat's chestnut was favouring his right foreleg with the broken saddle still strapped to his back. Neither of them looked inclined to go for a gallop anywhere.  
Then, wouldn't you know it; the crowd of curious citizens who were gathered around the two horses parted down the middle to make way for the angry scowl sporting a tin badge who had his sights set on the two bedraggled transients.  
“What in tarnation is goin' on here!?” came the snarling clipped accent of the man behind the badge.  
Kyle started to shift uncomfortably. “Wull....ahhmm....”  
Wheat started to cough.

“No sir Sheriff!—cough cough cough—we were hired to track that man and the longer you keep us here jawin' about it the more of a head start yer given' 'em!”  
The sheriff sat back in his chair and scrutinized these two vagabonds standing before him. “Really Mr. Johnston,” he commented sceptically. “So you're bounty hunters.”  
“No sir—cough cough—we ain't no stinkin' bounty hunters!” Wheat looked truly disgusted. “That man is an escaped convict from Wyoming and we've been hired to track 'em down cause ya' see he's also wanted fer questioning in some other matters.”  
Kyle grinned and smiled through the mud, hopefully giving emphasis to his partner's words.  
The sheriff looked from one man to the other and practically snorted in disbelief. “You got any proof of this?”  
“Well, ah—not on us,” Wheat was scrambling. “Ah but if ya' send a telegram to that lawyer fella who hired us, I'm sure he'll back it up. But still ya' know the longer you hold us here the less chance we got of catchin' up with 'em....”  
“Yeah, well you just hold your horses,” the sheriff told him. “cause I'm gonna check out your story and you ain't leavin' town until I get down to the bottom of this. You're both damn lucky that none of our citizens here got hit with any of those stray bullets! As it is the livery is gonna need some repair work done and if this lawyer fella don't back ya' up—and even more to the point; send money to cover the costs then you fellas will be guests of the jailhouse here until you can work off the debt!”  
The smile on Kyle's face dropped to an open mouthed frown as the thought of being stuck here in a jail cell sunk in.  
“Oh, well now sheriff, there ain't no call fer that!” Wheat was feeling flustered. “We got enough money on us to pay fer any repairs—there weren't none that was too bad! Ain't no call fer us to be stickin' around town now, you just tell us what you need and we can be on our way.”  
“Ahh huh,” the sheriff sounded sceptical. “Fine. I will ask Cecil how much he reckones it'll cost and I'll let yea' know. But in the mean time you fellas ain't goin' nowhere's until I can substantiate your story.”  
“Oh now, Sheriff, there ain't.....”  
“NOWHERE'S!” the sheriff reiterated. “Yer horses ain't fit for travel and if I get wind of you tryin' to buy new ones from Cecil then I'll be throwin' ya both into a cell for the duration! Do I make myself clear!?”  
The partners exchanged looks and Wheat started to grumble and then cough, but they couldn't think of no other way outa this. If they pushed the sheriff too hard then he just might do some real digging and find out that Mr. Johnston held an uncanny resemblance to a wanted highwayman who was actually suppose to be dead! The fact that they were in the heart of Kansas where chances were good that no one had even heard of Wheat Carlson did not help the deceased outlaw feel any less anxious.  
“Yessir Sheriff,” Wheat finally relented. “We'll just get us a room at the hotel and wait to hear from you to tell us we can go.”  
“Fine,” the sheriff seemed content with that. “I will send a telegram to your lawyer friend and we'll see what he has to say.”

Wet snow was starting to come down from a slate grey sky as the partners grumpily made their way over to the hotel to get settled in for the night.  
“What are we gonna do, Wheat?” Kyle whined. “This is the closest we come to Harris all year and now we's gonna lose 'em again!”  
“Don't ya' think I know that!?” Cough cough. Wheat snarked. “There's nothin' we can do about it! If our horses were fit we could just leave tonight, but as it stands—well I don't think Kid would want us stealin' horses, so we're just gonna havta wait.”  
“Ya' okay,” Kyle accepted that. “I guess a night or two in town won't be too bad....” and his sentence trailed off as he sent a sidelong glance over to his partner, thinking how pale he was lookin' and how that cough was startin' ta get bad again.  
Meanwhile Wheat had walked on ahead, mumbling to himself “....damn, Kid don't seem to want us to steal nothin' no more...just cause he's up and got his precious 'amnesty', he thinks we all need ta live by his rules.....” Grumble grumble grumble.

Harris was in a foul mood! What the hell was Carlson and Murtry doin' followin' him half way across the goddamn country!? Can't a man go about his own business without having to put up with unwelcome company? Dammit—what the hell was all that about! Betcha Heyes is behind this somehow—that arrogant bastard always did have it in for him. Made his life a misery in prison and here he was doin' the same thing now that they were both out. What the hell was his problem anyway!? Damned busy body!  
And a traitor too—now that he thought about it! Makin' friends with that damn guard and gettin' all chummy with the prison doctor. When push came to shove every inmate in that hell hole knew which side Heyes was on—yeah! Sidin' with the law, damn him! He probably was a spy all along just like Boeman had said, and again Harris cursed the bad aim when he'd ended up hitting Heyes' horse rather than Heyes himself! That would have been one less damn thorn to worry about!  
Oh it had been so tempting when he had that whole cozy little picnic in his sights and he could have taken Heyes out right then and there. But 'no', he'd been hired to take out the woman so he'd had to let his own desires take a step back and do what he'd been paid to do. Harris then grinned with malicious satisfaction; it had been a good clean shot—there was no way that little beauty could have survived it. It was a shame in a way; a little thing that pretty, Harris would have really enjoyed takin' that little beauty and forcing his way into her. She probably wasn't still a maiden considering she was with Jed Curry, and maidens were the best, still nice and tight. And most of them fought like hellcats! Yeah—he liked it when they fought back, it made the ride all that more exciting!  
Dammit—now he was gettin' all aroused! Even with this perpetual wet cold snow coming down and his persistence in keeping his tired horse moving at a steady clip through the slush, he was feeling his need take hold. Just thinking about what he would have liked to have done to that pretty little Jordan girl before he'd had to kill her was makin' him feel mean. Yeah, he'd just put some miles between himself and those pesky outlaw has beens and he'd find himself a pretty little blonde haired trollop and relieve himself with her! That just might make up for some of this crap!

A day and half later, the sheriff was finally satisfied that the two transients had been telling the truth and even more of a surprise; that lawyer fella had actually wired enough money to their local bank to cover the cost of a new barn door. Cecil couldn't have been happier—it was gonna be an even better barn door than he'd had in the first place!  
Then, considering that Cecil was now in a good mood he ended up selling those two fellas a couple a fairly nice horses, fully tacked out, for quite a bit lower than he would have otherwise have accepted. Of course he still made sure that he received a tiddy profit from the exchange—wouldn't be no kind of business man if he didn't! But everyone parted happy and the partners headed out of town, still feeling somewhat frustrated by the enforced delay, but over all, fairly optimistic, especially since it weren't snowing at that particular point in time!!  
That first day they pushed the horses fairly hard, knowing that they had a lot of ground to make up. Harris was running scared—or mad—or both, cause he sure wasn't doing much to cover his tracks. Heyes had always maintained that Harris was none too bright. He was mean but he needed someone to point him in the right direction to be of any use. When left to his own devices he tended to make mistakes and our two hero's hoped that this tendency would be his undoing!  
That night was spent out on the trail, but though the wind was chilly and the air was damp, no precipitation of any kind fell upon them and with their nice new ground sheet and bedrolls, they were able to spend a relatively comfortable night. Next morning they saddled up at first light and hit the trail again, following Harris' tracks with very little trouble and only twice having to circle back and reestablish the route.  
By mid-morning they found themselves in yet another little town but this time the whole place was in an uproar! Apparently some drifter showed up the night before and after some drinks and a little poker had paid for the sexual rights to a pretty little blonde haired saloon gal. Well, she used to be pretty. Nobody really cared too much about the whore but afterwards, that bastard had gone out and found himself someone else to abuse. Apparently once hadn't been enough to satisfy his needs.  
If he had just stayed with using the saloon gals (I mean, that's what they were for, after all) it wouldn't have mattered so much, but he just had to push the envelope. He had made his way out to one of the finest houses on the outskirts of town, found out which bedroom window would give him access to the fourteen year old girl who slept there and then at the right time, crept in and knocked her out while she was still asleep.  
He didn't make any kind of a run for it—he saw no need. He jammed a chair up against the door, bound that pretty little thing hand and foot to the bed, gagged her nice and snugly and then striped her naked. Then he sat down on the other chair in the room and he waited, admiring her pretty little adolescent body. He waited until she was awake. She had to be awake after all. How else was she going to appreciate everything he planned on doing to her?  
He was gone before the first light of dawn bled across the horizon. Gone before he could hear the mother's anguished screams and the father's enraged cursing. Gone before her blood spattered little body was even cold.  
This outraged town is what Wheat and Kyle rode in upon. They didn't even hang around to get details, they knew enough to know that they were on the right track and that they were closing in on him. The law in this town obviously wasn't the greatest and Harris had taken the time to hide his trail well enough to get their little posse heading off in the absolute wrong direction.  
Wheat snorted with disgust when they came across the simple ruse that had confused the posse, and he and Kyle just booted their horses onwards. Both men could feel the anticipation now; they knew they had Harris on the run and today would be the day that they'd get 'em!  
They'd left that town where they'd had the previous run in with Harris too soon. They were so anxious to get after their quarry that they hadn't even thought to check the telegraph office again so they missed the warning from the Kid to not try and apprehend Harris. Nor did they know that Abi and a Bannerman man were also on the hunt. But truth be known, even if they had received that warning, after what they'd heard in that last town neither one of them seemed inclined to just sit back and watch from a distance. They both wanted to get that bastard—and no damn telegram would have done much to stop them!

Jed was walking out of the telegraph office, reading the new message from Kenny that for some reason caused him a certain amount of consternation.  
By now he should know that walking and reading at the same time is not a healthy practice because he almost always ended up bumping into someone and this time was no exception.  
“JED!”  
“OH! I'm sorry.” Jed looked up into Miranda's dark blue eyes and instantly felt guilty, although why he would feel guilty he wasn't quite sure.  
Miranda smiled at his embarrassment. “That's quite alright. No harm done.”  
Jed smiled, trying to relax. “How are you? It's been awhile.”  
“Yes, I thought it best to stay away,” she admitted, feeling a little awkward herself now. “How is he? I worry about him you know.”  
“Yeah, join the club,” Jed mumbled but then sent her a friendlier smile. “He's alright Randa, just—still feeling a little uncertain about things.”  
“Oh,” Miranda frowned in mild confusion. “I thought Mrs. Stewert had left. I thought perhaps....there had been some resolution.”  
Jed sighed; there was no sidestepping this. Miranda wasn't going to let him. “Not yet,” he admitted and Miranda's face fell. “Abi has tried to end it only because she thought that you and Heyes were together. Then you ended it because you thought she and Heyes were together. Now neither of you want to see him until he makes up his mind and he's just not able to do that right now.”  
“Oh,” Randa perked up and smiled, albeit a little sadly. “Actually, in a way that's good news.”  
“It is?” Jed was confused.  
“Well yes,” Randa took Jed's arm and they continued on walking together. “I knew that Abigail had left so I thought that meant things were over between them, but when Hannibal didn't come calling—well then I thought that he didn't want to be with me even if he and Abi had called it quits. But now, obviously he just simply hasn't made up his mind; so there's still hope.”  
“Oh,” Jed was silent for a moment, trying to digest feminine logic. But then it did kinda actually make sense. “Have you been seeing anyone?”  
Randa sighed regretfully. “No,” she admitted. “Not that there hasn't been offers—I'm just not interested in really getting involved with anyone yet. Hannibal caught me by surprise!”  
Jed laughed. “Yeah! He has a way of doing that!”  
The pair continued to walk on in silence for a few more minutes. It felt a little strained so Randa brought up a new topic.  
“Have Belle and Beth returned home yet?” she asked, simply to have something to talk about since she was sure Trisha or David would have mentioned it if they had.  
“No, not yet.”  
“Oh. It's getting awfully close to Christmas,” she observed. “are they likely to be home for the holidays?”  
“I don't really know Randa,” Jed admitted. “I kinda doubt it though.”  
“So it's just going to be you three 'grass-widowers' alone during the festivities?”  
Jed shrugged. “I guess. I haven't heard anything about Bridget and Steven coming out. The weather is so unpredictable this time of year and I know that until we get to the bottom of all this, Jesse would prefer they stay away. Especially with little Rosa. I think it's going to be a rather quiet Christmas this year.”  
“Oh no! You can't have that!” Miranda was adamant. “I know David and Trich often come out to the Double J for Christmas, why don't we make it a definite! Trich and I can put on a really nice spread for you fellas!”  
“Ohh, I don't know,” Jed was hesitant of agreeing to that, wondering how Heyes would feel having Miranda there. “I think David and Trich were going to spend Christmas day over with her folks this year.”  
“Plans can change,” Miranda pointed out, but then she noticed Jed's discomfort and guessed quite easily where it was coming from. “Why don't you ask Hannibal if it's alright with him. If not, we won't come, but if he's okay with it there's no reason why the three of you should spend that day alone. It would be rather depressing, don't you think?”  
“Yeah, probably would,” Jed had to agree to that. He for one was disappointed at the timing of all this. Like Jesse he had hoped that this Christmas would finally find them all together again. “I'll ask him.”  
“Good,” Randa patted his arm. “and assure him that there's no pressure from me for him to make up his mind. It would just be nice to spend Christmas with people you like, especially if the ones you love can't be there.”  
Jed smiled. “Yeah alright,” he agreed. “I'll discuss it with him and I will give him your assurances.”  
“Good!” Miranda exclaimed. “Now, I must be off. I didn't come into town just to talk you, you know!”  
“Ha ha!” Jed laughed and kissed her hand. “It was still a pleasure!”  
“Oh you men!” Miranda teased kindheartedly. “You all love to flirt!”  
“Yes ma'am!” Jed saw no reason to deny the accusation.  
“I'll see you later Jed,” Miranda bid him adieu. “Let me know what he says.”  
“I will.”  
At which point Miranda carried on in the direction that they had been going in and Jed turned and went back towards the telegraph office since that was where Gov was parked and patiently waiting for him. When he got to his horse he gave the youngster a rub on the forehead and then opened the telegram to read it again and decide if he should be worried about it or not.

'C and H. Carson fired from Arz. Ter. Prison. Suspected of beating an inmate to death. He's disappeared. K.R.'

Just as he was finishing up reading this for the second time, he felt the presence of another horse coming up beside Gov and he glanced up to be met by Karma's dark red face. He smiled and looked up even more to see his partner just in the process of dismounting.  
“Hey Heyes,” he greeted his friend with a smile. “Did ya' have a good visit?”  
Heyes shook his head, looking regretful. “No.”  
“Why? What happened?”  
Heyes sighed. “I just couldn't do it Kid,” he admitted. “I got as far as the front gate to the cemetery and I just couldn't go any further.”  
“Oh. Well, maybe you're just not ready yet Heyes,” Jed tried to reassure him. “You got time; I don't think he's goin' anywhere.”  
Heyes gave a halfhearted smile. “No, I don't suppose so.”  
“Here, what do ya' think of this?” Jed asked him as he handed over the telegram.  
Heyes took it and his face darkened as he read through the short note. Then his jaw tightened in anger. “That bastard! Doc said he'd do it again. Dammit!” Then he sighed deeply, shaking his head with regret. “I don't suppose there's much I can do about it though—not with all these damned restrictions on me.”  
Jed smiled slightly, having gotten used to his partner referring to the deceased doctor as though he were still a living, breathing entity. “Kenny doesn't even know where he is,” he pointed out. “and it would be foolhardy to go trying to find him this time of year.”  
Heyes looked his cousin in the eye and then nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I know. It's just—dammit!”  
Jed put a reassuring hand on his cousin's shoulder. “I know,” he consoled him. “C'mon Heyes, let's go home. I was just talkin' to a mutual friend and I got something else to discuss with ya'.”

“You saw Miranda?” Heyes asked as he tried to pull the knife out of his heart.  
“Well yeah Heyes. It's not that surprising. She does live here ya' know.”  
“Yeah I suppose,” Heyes mumbled as Karma picked her way along the rather icy road. “I haven't seen her since Thanksgiving. And then she danced with everyone but me!”  
“She was just trying to give ya' room Heyes,” Jed pointed out. “She's been worryin' about ya'. Just asked how you were doin'.”  
“Oh,” Heyes' tone turned cynical. “And then invited herself out for Christmas dinner.”  
Jed sighed, getting frustrated with Heyes' attitude. “She just offered that they all come out, hoping to make the day a little more festive for us. She did say that if you weren't comfortable with it, they wouldn't come.”  
“Hmm.”  
“Personally I was kinda hoping that David and Trich would come out,” Jed commented. “It would be nice to have something other than stew for Christmas dinner.”  
Heyes scowled. “Jeez! First ya' tell me to give Abi another try, practically force me into it! And now you're pushing Miranda at me! Just who's side are you on Kid?! Who you rootin' for?!”  
“I'M ROOTIN' FOR YOU HEYES!” Jed yelled back at him, really get fed up with his attitude now. “I just want you to stop hiding your head in the sand! How are ya' gonna make up your mind if ya' keep on avoiding them!?”  
“WELL MAYBE I DON'T WANT TO MAKE UP MY MIND! Heyes yelled back, causing Karma to start a little in surprise and anxiety; she didn't like it when her human got angry. “Maybe I don't want either one of them! DID YA' EVER THINK OF THAT!?”  
Then booting Karma forward, a little harder than he really needed to, the pair of them took off down the icy road at a cautious gallop, leaving the Kid behind while he held Gov back not wanting to risk his legs on the slippery surface.  
“Aww jeez Heyes,” he mumbled to himself as he watched the mare and his partner disappear down the road. At least he was heading towards the ranch and not taking off across country. Jed sigh and gave his dancing gelding a reassuring pat on the neck. “This is going to be one hell of a Christmas.”  
By the time Jed arrived back at the ranch himself, Heyes had had time to not only cool Karma down from the slippery gallop home, but time to cool himself down as well. Kid came trotting up to the barn just as Heyes was leading his mare out of that structure towards the field and the two men stopped and stared at each other for a moment.  
“Kid, I'm.....”  
“Yeah Heyes I know,” Jed responded with a touch of exasperation as he swung his leg over and stepped down from his saddle. “you're sorry.”  
“Yeah,” Heyes did indeed look contrite. “I know you're tryin' to walk a fine line here and everybody's bending over backwards to help me adjust! I suppose that's what's so frustrating; everybody's trying to be so nice. Even Miranda, she's just trying to be supportive even though it would probably be hard on her to come out here for Christmas she still offered to do it to try and make the day a little nicer for us.”  
“Yeah,” Jed nodded. “I think that's all she was trying to do Heyes. She did say that if you weren't okay with it then she wouldn't come out. I don't think she's tryin' ta' pressure ya'.”  
Heyes sighed. “I know! Like I said; that's what's so frustrating!”  
Kid just looked at him, his eyes asking the question.  
Heyes frowned and shook his head. “Miranda is just so nice. If she was being petty and manipulative it would make all this so much easier. But she's being so nice. She knows I've got history with Abi and yet she still offers to come out to make dinner for us. Why couldn't she be mean and irritating? Why does she have to be so nice?”  
Kid smiled. “Yeah, I can see why mean and irritating might be preferable.” Heyes' shoulders slumped, he looked retched. Kid clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Aww, c'mon Heyes—cheer up! It's not every man who has two beautiful women in love with him.”  
Heyes groaned. “You're not helping Kid.”  
“Sure I am,” Kid countered him. “And one day you'll be forever grateful, on top of all the other debts you owe me!”  
“You're gonna get insufferable about this aren't you?”  
Jed's smile turned into a full grin. “How often do I have you in my debt?” he asked innocently as he started to lead Gov into the barn. “I just might start making a list of all the things I've done for you over the years; like harassing the governor—or should I say; governors. Not to mention taking the train to Wyoming every month—sometimes twice a month! Oh and we can't forget.....” And so on and so on as Jed and Gov disappeared into the barn and Jed's voice faded away.  
Heyes sighed and turned to look at his mare. Karma stood and looked back at him.  
“You have my permission to kick him,” he informed her. “any time ya' like.”  
Karma swished her tail and flicking an ear, thought about that for a moment. She wasn't really sure that she wanted to kick the other human. They hadn't always seen eye to eye but lately they've been getting along fine, and besides that she rather liked Gov and he might take exception to her kicking his human. No, she thought; she didn't really want to kick him.  
Heyes sighed as he turned and continued to lead her towards the field. “Yeah, I suppose you're right,” he agreed. “He'd never let me live that one down.”

“Yesterday?”  Harry’s moustache echoed his spreading smile, giving Abigail a meaningful nod.  “He left here yesterday?  So we’re right on his tail?”  
“Yes, spent a night in the cells for fightin’.  Damn!   Why didn’t I hold onto him for longer?”  The sheriff darted a look at Abigail before he scratched pensively at his chin.  “Sorry about the language, ma’am, but why were you folks after this guy?”  
“He’s suspected of attempting to kill a young woman in another state.  I was brought in by her family to track him down.”  Harry gazed over the road towards the undertaker’s office.  “The description Mrs. Winters gave was an exact match for the man we’ve been tracking.”  
The sheriff sighed and glanced at Abigail.  “It ain’t usual to bring a woman on a job like this.  I will have to check out that identification, Mr. Brisco.”  
“He’ll check out,” Abigail nodded.  “I agree it’s not that usual to bring a woman, Sheriff Andrews, but I’m an expert shot, at least as good as you are; and I have a vested interest.  Mr. Brisco didn’t want me around, but as a private detective he had no choice.  It was a good job I was there.  Mrs. Winters needed a woman’s touch.”  
“I couldn’t agree more, ma’am.  God forbid anything like that should happen to any of my womenfolk, but I’d like to think there’d be a gentle hand to help them if it did.”  He stood looking out at the street, full of bustling activity and chattering groups.  “Bringin’ in something like this has set the town afire.  My deputy is gettin’ a posse together.  You’re welcome to join us, Mr. Brisco – provided the Bannerman agency confirms your identity.”  
Abigail stiffened.  “And me?”  
“The law’s on his trail now, ma’am.  You can stay here – or leave on the next train.  You’re free to go.  You’re not a suspect.”  
Her eyes narrowed, sensing there was little point in arguing.  She gave a curt nod and turned on her heel, striding out into the street.  
She heard clattering footsteps behind her on the sidewalk.  “Where are you going?” Harry demanded.  
“To get my horse.  I’m going after him.”  
 “Abi, there’s no need.  The law’s on his trail now.  We’ll get him.”  
“Yes, and they’ll want to know all about the Winters; he won’t be questioned about why he was after Beth.  Nobody’ll care, because this double murder is a hanging offense.  We’ll never know why he was after Beth, or even if it was him at all.  I need to get to him first.”  
“I’ll stay with the posse, Abi.  I’ll question him,” Harry persisted.  “I’ll find out.”  
She cast thoughtful eyes down to the ground.  “Yes, that’s probably a good idea.  People are really angry.  They could kill him on the spot.”  
“You can’t be seriously thinking about going after this animal alone?” Harry spluttered, incredulously.  “Go back to the Double J.  Wait for me to tell you what he says when I’ve questioned him.”  
“I have no reason to go back there.”  
Harry frowned, sensing a deeper meaning behind the bleakness lacing her words.  “But what if something needs to be followed up after we get him?”  
“Then I’ll do it.  There’s no need to go all the way back there before I do.”  
Harry laid a hand on Abigail’s arm.  “What happened between you and the boys?  Why are you here if they’re so hostile towards you?”  
Abigail gave his hand a pat.  “I’m here for the Jordans, Harry.  I know how it feels to lose your daughter to a criminal, and I’ll do whatever I can to prevent that happening to anyone else.”  She gave him a watery smile, watching his face register the gravity of her words, “and if that means I have to put up with a bit of attitude from Hannibal Heyes; then I’ll swallow it down, and carry right on.”  She clattered off down the sidewalk, turning to give Harry a reassuring nod.  “I’ll see you on the trail.  I’m sure you’ll catch me up.”  
“I can’t let you go on alone.”  
She shrugged.  “It’s not your call, Harry.  It’s best that you stick with the posse, so you can be part of the questioning if they get to him first.  We need that, because they won’t just lynch him if there’s a Bannerman there.  We’re lost if that happens.”   
“What kind of man would I be if I let you ride out of here on your own?”  
“A professional one.  The posse will soon catch up with me, we both know that – and the only way I can stay involved is if it’s too much bother for them to take me back.  Go with them, Harry, I’ll be fine. If we get split up, send a telegram to the Bannerman agency and tell them to let me know where I can find you.  We’ve been tracking Mitch for the last twelve days, even using trains when we’ve had to; we can’t fail at the last hurdle.”  
“Abi,” Harry called.  “did you tell Heyes and Jesse how to stay in touch with you?”  
She stopped at the corner and shook her head.  “Nope.  I’m done there.  You can do that.  There’s no point in both of us doing the same thing.  Heyes and Curry didn’t invite me here, and we both know I wasn’t welcomed by our resident ex-outlaw.  ‘Bye, Harry!  See you soon… hopefully.”

It was cold and damp as usual for this god-forsaken State. No new snow had fallen but the snow that was there was insisting on hanging around, turning the ground into a slushy mushy mess. The cold breeze that kept up a constant fluttering all around didn't help to make the scene any more pleasant or endurable. Indeed the only good thing about this situation is that Harris' tracks were plain as day to those who knew how to read them and Wheat and Kyle not only knew how, but knew they were catching up.  
By early afternoon they spotted the speck in the distance moving away from them at a steady pace and Wheat took his spy glass out from his saddlebag and zeroed in on the gradually diminishing object. They had thought they had caught up with him before only to find that it was some deer or stray cow and they didn't want to get their hopes or their adrenaline up before they knew for sure. The land out here was so flat they could see for miles and it was an easy enough thing to mistake one moving object for another.  
Sure enough, as Wheat focused in on that speck in the distance, this time it developed into a man and horse, who by the casual way they were moving, had not realized yet that they were being scrutinized.  
Wheat lowered the spy glass and smiled. “Yup, it's him.”  
Kyle grinned while he continued to chew and then he spit out some of the brown juice. “So what's the plan Wheat? We can't exactly sneak up on 'em.”  
“You got that right,” Wheat agreed. “Why don't we just hang back here a bit—wait and see what he does. If he don't spot us, maybe we can come up on 'em when he's makin' camp.”  
Kyle grinned even wider. “Yeah.”  
Again, things do not always go as planned and twenty minutes into the slow motion chase the two pursuers noticed the speck make a slight change in direction and then turning back onto it's original course, started to move off again. Since the speck was moving directly away from our boys and since the ground was mud and snow rather than dirt it took a moment for them to realize that their quarry had obviously spotted them and was on the run.  
Once that fact had been ascertained all need for discretion was gone and they roused their horses from the casual jog and booted them up into a gallop. They knew they were on fresher horses and probably better ones as well so it didn't surprise them to find the distance between pursued and pursuers quickly diminishing. Their blood was up and the excitement of the chase was taking hold to the point where even Wheat wasn't feeling the cold anymore and they encouraged their horses to run faster and the lead that Harris had became shorter.  
Then Harris turned abruptly to the right and headed at full speed towards a copse of trees such as they were in this bleak landscape, obviously hoping for some cover. This instantly put a little more pressure on our heroes to pick up the pace if they could; if Harris made it to cover then he could turn and start taking pot shots at them and there they would be stuck out in the open.  
They started to push their horses with earnest now but even then they knew that Harris was going to make the trees before they could catch up with him. They kept at him in a straight line until he did indeed plunge in amongst the trees and though they could see him inside the sparse branches, he still had the advantage for cover. They saw him dismount and get ready to make his stand so the partners instantly split up in order to come at him from either side rather than straight on.  
Wheat had an eery feeling of deja vue only from the opposite side of things as he remembered Morrison and his posse attempting to trap Wheat in this very same type of manoeuvre. Hopefully he and Kyle would be more successful than that posse had been. Then his musings were cut short as Harris' rifle barked from the cover and Wheat experienced that knot of anticipation of a bullet hitting home. But Harris missed his shot and Wheat's horse kept going, and then they were into the trees themselves.  
Harris turned to attempt to bring Kyle down on his other side but he was too late as that horse also jumped over some dead-fall and then disappeared into the jumble. Harris cursed and quickly made a run for his horse. He could hear them coming, one on either side and if he'd been smart he would have stayed where he was because at least there he would be able to see them and he had some cover. But as we all know Harris was not all that smart. He panicked.  
Wheat had drawn his revolver right after he had entered the woods, not wanting to bother with his rifle in such close quarters so he was ready as soon as he had a target. It didn't take much of weaving in and out between the sparsely spaced tress before he caught sight of movement just up ahead of him and he levelled his revolver and fired. He didn't hit his mark as a tree branch got in the way, but he did succeed at spooking the horse and that animal lunged backwards and tried to get away from the brutal human who was holding on to him.  
Harris became so preoccupied with trying to hang on to his horse and level his rifle to get a shot off at Wheat that he totally forgot about Kyle coming up on him from the other side. Kyle didn't bother with any of his firearms as the quarters they were in were too close now and he didn't want to take the chance of hitting Wheat by accident. He aimed his horse straight at Harris and just as the fugitive heard him coming and spun to face him, Kyle's horse hit him full force with its chest and sent the man sprawling into the cold wet mud.  
Harris had the wind knocked out of him but he still tried to scramble to his feet and having dropped his rifle, went for his handgun instead. Kyle spun his horse around again and basically ran the fugitive over and probably would have done some damage if it wasn't for the mud cushioning him. Harris tried to push himself up and out of the mire, coughing muck out of his mouth but by that time Wheat had jumped down from his horse, and running over to the barely recognizable Harris, kicked him in the ribs and sent him rolling onto his back.  
Harris started to curse as best he could while still spiting out mud, but before he had a chance to recover Wheat was standing over him with a cocked revolver staring him in the face. Harris stared back up at him and snarled.  
“What the hell you doin'!?” he garbled up at the previous leader of the Devil's Hole gang. “What are you doin' comin' after me!?”  
Wheat grabbed him by his shirt front and hauled him to his feet. “Shuddup!” Wheat was disgusted with all the carnage this man had left in his wake and was in no mood to be genial. “Tie 'em up Kyle!”  
Kyle grinned with malicious pleasure; finally seeing this brutal bastard at a disadvantage was making his day. “You betcha'!” And he hurried forward with the leather straps they'd had on them just for this eventuality and was quick to get Harris' hands pulled behind his back and tied together.  
Throughout all of this Harris was cursing and snarling but still not taking his eyes off the gun in Wheat's hand. He was a bully and a half when he had the advantage but he still preferred to do his fightin' from behind and certainly not when he was outnumbered.  
“You fucking bastards!” he continued to curse. “What are ya' doin'!? I thought we were all on the same side here!”  
“I ain't never gonna be on the same side as a man who'll treat a lady the way you do!” Wheat snarled at him  
Kyle snickered as he gathered up the three horses and got them secured. “Yeah. You got some s'plainen' ta' do.”  
Harris glanced from one then back to the other again. The sneer wasn't leaving his muddy face. “What are you talkin' about? What's that to you?”  
“Well, ya' see....” Wheat explained, like he was talking to a child. “we got some friends up Colorado way who really wanna have a word with you.”  
“Colorado?” Harris repeated, but even through the mud they could see the blood leave his face. “I ain't been near Colorado.”  
“Well whether you have or you ain't is no mind to me,” Wheat continued. “but there are still certain people who want to have a word with you about some things that happened at that prison in Wyoming. Yeah,” Wheat smiled. “they're real interested in havin' a few words with you.”  
Harris shifted a little nervously on the fallen tree they had him perched on. “You don't know what yer talkin' about. You got nothin' on me!”  
“Hell, that don't matter none,” Wheat told him. “We ain't the law—we don't need nothin'. All we need is you, and that's what we got, ain't it.”  
Harris snarled again and made a lounge for his captor. Wheat got his hands up to block him and Kyle made a grab at his arms before he'd even taken one step.  
“You bastards!” Harris yelled at them again as he was unceremoniously shoved back down onto his perch. “What the hell game are you playin'!? Heyes put you up ta' this didn't he!? That fuckin' sanctimonious bastard! I shoulda kilt him when I had the chance....”  
Harris didn't even see the blow that thudded into the side of his head, momentarily stunning him.  
“Who you callin' a bastard—you bastard!!” Wheat had him by the front of his shirt, shaking him in his anger. “We seen what you done to those ladies! And we heard about worse...so don't you go callin' Heyes a bastard! And for yer information you never had no chance ta' kill 'em—you don't have the brains ta' get the better of Hannibal Heyes!”  
“Yeah!?” Harris challenged as soon as his head stopped spinning. “I tell ya' I had that son-of-bitch in my sights more'n once! I ever get him there again—I'LL KILL 'EM!”  
“Big talk for someone in your situation,” Wheat growled at him. “If I was you I'd start given' some serious thought to answerin' whatever question are put to ya' if you have any desire to be seein' daylight again. You just think on that!”  
“I ain't tellin' you nothin'!” Harris snarled back and then spit at his captor.  
Wheat stepped out of the way but then landed another blow to the other side of his head, nearly knocking him to the ground. Kyle was starting to get a little worried that his partner was becoming to wrapped up in his role.  
“Hey Wheat....” Kyle started, a little hesitantly. “don't ya' think you should stop hittin' 'em so's he can answer the questions?”  
Wheat snarled over at his partner but then snorted and backed off. Kyle was right; Wheat had been gettin' ready to beat the living daylights outa this snake and then he'd be no good for nothin'. Harris smirked, thinking that these two worthless outlaws were no match for him. This was going to turn into a waiting game; sooner or later they'd slip up and he would slit their throats. Everything was going to be alright.....

Abigail picked her way carefully through the undergrowth.  She had been told that a man matching Mitch’s description had been in the town of Joplin, and he had left, heading east, on the main road out of town.  There had been numerous tracks in the snow, coming and going, but they had diminished as she had gotten further from town.  In the end there had been only the track of a wagon, heading towards town, and the tracks of three horses, heading east.   
Alarm bells were ringing in her head.  Three men?  She was confident she could take on Mitch, but if he now had confederates, things were a lot more complicated.  Where the hell was that posse?  She knew any group was only as strong as its weakest member, and that the ground they covered would be dictated by the horses and men more used to working fields than tracking felons.  Finding him, and leading the posse to him, might have to suffice if he now had back up.  
She crept further forward, stalking more cautiously now she could hear the murmur of voices on the copse of trees.  She moved like a cat, until she could peer through the branches of a service-berry bush.  It was stiff in its winter armour, with prickly, harsh stems now devoid of leaves, but it would give her cover if she remained still and didn’t draw the eye; which was why she wore an ashen brown coat – it melded into rocks and shrubbery so well.  
What she saw surprised her.  A smile twitched at her lips.  She knew two of these men – and they knew her.   
   
“What we gonna do, Wheat?”  the smallest of the group kept his rifle, held in the crook of his elbow, in the direction of the man sitting on a rock.  “We were told to find him, but that lawyer fella never said what to do when we got him.”      
“We’re gonna contact him, see what he wants us to do,” the largest one replied.  
“So, one of us goes back to Joplin and sends a telegram, but we’re gonna have to keep going back to town to check.”  The smallest man shook his head ruefully.  “You ain’t fit to be campin’ out in this weather, Wheat.  How are we gonna fix this?”  
Abigail stood, making her way into the clearing.  “Maybe I can help?”  
Wheat and Kyle turned, their weapons pointing straight at her.  “Hands up,” barked Wheat.  
Abigail gave him a reassuring smile and raised her hands.  “Don’t you remember me?  We’ve met before.  I brought a group into…” she glanced cagily at ‘Mitch.’  “Well, let’s not give too much away to him.  Remember that place you used to live?”  
Kyle’s eyes narrowed as his toothy mouth widened.  “Wheat?  Ain’t she that Pinkerton who came to The Hole?”  He squinted at her, aiming the rifle firmly at the interloper before glancing around.  “Who’ve you got with you?”  
“A Pinkerton?”  Harris shuffled anxiously.  
“You, keep still!” Wheat roared at his prisoner, he eyed Abigail cautiously.  “Yeah, it is her… not that you’d know it in those clothes.  What’ve you done to yourself?  Why’re you done up like some kinda buckaroo?  You can get shot real easy, got up like that, and wanderin’ into a man’s sights.”  
“You need to watch him, he’ll stab people just for fun.  Have you searched him well?  
“Sure have.”  Kyle chewed lazily at a gob of tobacco.  “And we got no worries about him knowin’ who we are, ma’am.  We were in prison together, ain’t that right, Harris?  He knows me real well.”  
Abigail’s eyes widened.  “Harris?  So you were in prison with Mr. Heyes?”  
“And he broke right out of there too, ma’am,” Kyle spat messily onto the snow.  “He’s wanted.”  
“Why’re you here, and who’s with you,” Wheat demanded.  “I can’t believe you’re dumb enough to waltz in here alone.”  
“I guess I am that dumb.  I really am here alone.”  
“You don’t expect me to be stupid enough to believe that, do you?” growled Wheat, before breaking into a gut wrenching cough.  
Abigail walked forward slowly, her arms still raised.  “I’m here alone because they wouldn’t let a woman join the posse.  They’re behind me, but I don’t know how far away they are.  We’ve been looking for a violent man called, ‘Mitch,’ who’s suspected of taking a shot at Beth Jordan.  On the trail we came across the body of a man he killed, and his dying wife.”  She stared at Harris.  “You raped her, didn’t you?  It took her days to die.”  
Kyle’s eyebrows flew up.  “What do you think you’re doin’, settin’ off after an animal like this alone?  You’re just plumb loco!”  
Abigail gave Harris a cold stare.  “So you’re Harris, and you were in jail with Mr. Heyes.  Why would you shoot Beth Jordan?”  
“Go to hell, you slut!” Harris snarled at her. “You got nothin'!”  
Kyle stepped forward and cracked Harris on the jaw with the butt of his rifle.  “Don’t talk to her like that!  D’you hear me, Harris!”  
Harris fell to the ground, muttering oaths and obscenities all the way down.  
Wheat glanced uneasily at Abigail.  “How far ahead of that posse were you?”  
“Relax, Mr. Carlson.  I have no interest in turning you in, and I believe I can help you hand this piece of trash over to the law without exposing yourself to the risk of arrest.”  
“He might be able to say what really happened when Doc Morin was killed in prison.”  Kyle pushed back his hat.  “That’s why a lawyer fella was payin’ us to find him.”  
Abigail nodded.  “You seem to be around a lot of violent incidents, Harris, and you have a whole lot of questions to answer.  I’ll let your lawyer friend know he’s been caught, so he has the chance to ask the questions he needs to.”  
Wheat lowered his gun, gesturing for her to drop her hands.  “Just what are you proposin’, ma’am?”  
“I had intended to track him down and make sure I led the posse to him, but now you’ve got him, I’d be better taking him their way, or to the sheriff in Joplin; whichever comes first.”  
Wheat shook his head.  “Nuh-uh, you ain’t goin’ anywhere alone with him.”  
“I can handle a gun, Mr. Carlson.  Tie him to his horse, and I’ll be just fine.”  
“I don’t care, ma’am.  I ain’t lettin’ no woman go off on her own with a murderin’ rapist.”  Wheat narrowed his eyes.  “Even if she is the law.”  
Abigail gave a wry smile.  “Aw, Mr. Carlson, but you were prepared to see me dead the last time we met.”  
“Dead!” Wheat spluttered.  “I never laid a finger on you.”  
“No, but when I was seized by an armed man, you told him it made no difference to you if he shot me.”  
“I was callin’ his bluff!  I ain’t never hurt a woman in my life,” Wheat blustered.  “And never will, neither.”  
Abigail smiled.  “I’m teasing you.  Look, if you don’t want to hand him over, ride with me.  If we meet the posse, you can head off as soon as we see them.  I’ll cover for you.”  
“I can’t trust you,” Wheat simmered.  
“You can.  I’m not a Pinkerton anymore, and in any case, Hannibal Heyes did a deal with the Pinkerton agency to lay off The Devil’s Hole Gang as long as they hit properties protected by their competitors, remember?”  
“Heyes did arrange a truce, Wheat.  Remember that nun?  She was a Pinkerton too, and told us about that deal - in Howden?”    
Wheat’s eyes glittered suspiciously.  “Do you think I was made by a finger?   You ain’t a Pinkerton no more, you just said so – so the deal won’t stand if you’re workin’ for somebody else.”  
“Mr. Carlson, I have no reason to turn you in.  It’s not why I’m here and it’s none of my business.  I’m no longer a detective.”  
Wheat coughed again.  “Then why are you followin’ a man like Harris on your own, if you ain’t the law.”  
“Because I’m helping the Jordans.  Their daughter was shot in the throat!  She’s engaged to Jed Curry, you know.”  
Wheat and Kyle exchanged a glance.  “He shot Kid’s fee-on-cee in the throat?” growled Kyle, rolling the word ‘fiancé’ around his mouth like hot marbles.  “He killed her?”  
“She lived.  But I need to know why he did it.”  
“Like hell she lived!” rumbled Harris. “That was a clean shot!”  
All three of his captors looked over at the prisoner.  
“Well nice ta' meet ya' there, 'Mitch'!” Wheat sneered at him. What an idiot!  
Harris scowled, suddenly realizing that he had just admitted his guilt.  
Kyle grinned but then they all quickly got back down to the business at hand.  
“If’n there wasn’t a posse on the way, I’d make him talk,” grumbled Wheat.  “But helpin’ her to hand him over’s our best chance.”  He fixed Abigail with a glare.  “You’d better be tellin’ us the truth lady, or I’ll make sure I get the chance to get away – no matter who’s in the way.”  
“Such a suspicious mind, Mr. Carlson.  Stay like that, and you should stay ahead of the law.”  Abigail nodded towards Harris.  “He’s a violent moron, and you’re so much better than the likes of him.  Let’s go.  I give you my word that I won’t turn you in.”  
   
Wheat stiffened at the sight of the posse cresting the brow of the hill.  
“I made you a promise, Mr. Carlson, and I meant it.” Abigail darted a look at Harris, his hands bound to the pommel of the saddle.  “Get out of here.  The posse’s in view.  I’ll be fine from here.”  
“If you’re sure…” muttered Wheat doubtfully.  
Abigail fixed Harris with a determined gaze.  “If you so much as try anything, I’ll shoot your horse out from under you.  Got that?”  Harris stared out towards the approaching posse with a look of resignation on his face, but remained silent.  Abigail turned back to Kyle and Wheat.  “Go, and good luck to you both.”  
Kyle tipped the brim of his hat.  “’Bye, ma’am.  Give Kid our regards.”  
“I won’t see him again, but I will make sure your message is passed on to those who will.  I’m sure he’d wish you the same.”  
Kyle nodded and tugged at his horse’s reins, following Wheat into the trees.

Abigail led Harris’ horse up the hillside, towards the posse.  They rode for about ten minutes before Harris let out a yell, kicking into his horse as hard as he could.  The startled animal took off, Harris using his legs to steer her straight into Abigail’s mount.  Her gelding reared, throwing her to the ground, before thundering off the way they had come.  The fall knocked the breath out of her, and she lay winded on the cold, hard ground, cursing under her breath and damning herself for not being better prepared.  All those years living a soft life – she was clearly losing her touch.   
She garnered her shattered nerves and reached for her gun; she didn’t want to shoot a healthy horse, but she could not allow Harris to get away.  She sat up and aimed, pausing in surprise; two horsemen were galloping out of the trees, heading straight for Harris.  Abigail smiled in relief; Wheat and Kyle – they had stuck around after all.  She lowered her gun, in no doubt that the riders powering towards the criminal would soon catch him.  Riders had broken off from the posse, and were quickly battering towards her.  
Harris did well, considering he was not able to use his hands, but Wheat’s much larger horse was closing fast.  The convict was clearly desperate to remain free; he leaned forward, into the wind, his horse’s ears flattened back as the hooves threw up dirty snow behind the flowing tail.  Wheat’s horse was almost upon him when Harris suddenly changed direction, whirling around back towards Abigail – but Harris hadn’t counted on Kyle.   
Years of running from the law had taught him a thing or two about evasion, and he had already been bringing pincer movement around to head him off.  Harris had played into their hands, he suddenly saw Kyle heading straight for him, he tried to turn yet again, but it was too tight a turn, and the animal stumbled, falling onto the snow with a squeal.  Kyle leaped down, calming the struggling beast as she desperately tried to get to her feet and released the leather thong binding the convict’s hands to the pommel before he was dragged away by his panicked mount.       
“On yer feet,” bellowed Wheat, his gun pointed firmly at Harris’ head.  
Hooves thudded to a halt beside Abigail.  “You!”  She looked up into the angry grey eyes of the sheriff of Joplin.  
“Sheriff Andrews.  You’re here,” she gave him a conciliatory smile, realizing that there was nothing she could say which would make her seem anything other than a bumbling idiot, especially after Harris’ escape attempt.   
“What do you think you’re doin’, comin’ all the way out here on your own?”  
“I decided I couldn’t wait,” she replied, amiably.     
“I take it that’s the man we’re after.  Have you any idea what he could have done to you!?”    
She climbed to her feet dusting off the snow.  “I told you; I have a vested interest in catching this man.”  
“That’s not an answer!”  
Abigail clenched her jaw.  “You know damned well I’m aware of what that man has done.  Don’t ask stupid questions, unless you want a stupid answer.”  
Andrews narrowed his eyes.  “Lord preserve me from meddlin’ women.”  He turned.  “Duke, Bishop!  Go get him.”  He glared at Abigail.  “Lady, unless you do as you’re told around here, you’ll be treated the same as him, and you’ll end up in my jail.  I’m in charge around here; got that?”  
She nodded meekly.  They needed to keep this man on their side if Harry was to have access for questioning.  “Yes, I’ve got it.  It’s just that I need that man to be caught more than I need to stay alive.  Can you understand that?”  
Andrews’ eyes mellowed.  “Just leave this to us, will you?”  He raised his face to look at the man struggling between two deputies.  “He ain’t too impressive.”  He gave a heavy sigh.  “You’re under arrest for the murder of Sarah and Jeffrey Winters.  You ain’t worth the dirt they spent their life diggin’ in.”  
“He also needs to be questioned about two attempts on the life of Beth Jordan, and the murder of a Doctor Morin,” Abigail cut in.  “There’s a lawyer who needs to interview him, as well as my detective.  There are issues in other states we need him to answer to.  The governor needs to be informed.”  
“Your detective?” chuckled Harry.  “Since when was I ‘yours?’”  
“Arrest them,” yelled Harris.  “That’s Wheat Carlson and Kyle Murtry from The Devil’s Hole Gang.  Wheat’s alive, and he’s still wanted; Murtry’s breakin’ his parole by bein’ with a criminal.  Arrest them!”  
Sheriff Andrews’ grey eyes surveyed the two strangers closely.   
Abigail was quick to leap to their defense.  “Nonsense!  They’re miners who just happen to be in the area; they did everything they could to help me.  Why would The Devil’s Hole Gang do that?”     
“Don’t listen to her,” Harris cried.  “She’s a Pinkerton!  I heard them talkin’ – they have a deal where the Pinkertons don’t arrest them.”  
“A Pinkerton?”  Andrews gave Abigail an appraising look.  “I have heard that they hired female detectives.  Real professional too.  That would explain why you headed out here on your own…”   
“Would it explain why I hired a Bannerman agent?” Abigail started talking, and she talked fast.  “You checked him out yourself.  Why would I need to hire a detective from the Pinkerton’s biggest rivals?  You saw him get away from me- did that look like a professional at work?”  She cast out a hand towards Harris.  “He’s trying to inconvenience good men who helped bring him in.  Are you going to lock up half the posse next?  That’s a great reward for these men for having a civic conscience.”  
Andrews paused before nodding towards Wheat and Kyle.  “Yeah, she’s right.  You can go, and thanks for helpin’ out, fellas.”  
Wheat threw Abigail an almost imperceptible smile, coupled with a toothy grin from Kyle.  “Much obliged.”  Wheat touched the brim of his hat.  “You take care, ma’am.”  
Abigail smiled at both outlaws.  “You too.  You’ve done a good thing today and I’m very grateful.”  
Wheat gave her one last enigmatic look and tugged at his reins, before riding back into the trees with Kyle.

Abigail looked up from her book, her brows gathering in curiosity.  Who was knocking on her hotel room door?  Harry was over at the jail, trying to get the chance to question Harris, as he had been every day this week.  “Who is it?”  
“It’s Jed.”  
She dropped her book in surprise, scooting off the bed before turning the handle.  “Jed!? What are you doing here?”  
He smiled, dropping a light kiss on her cheek.  “I came to see you.  We’ve been worried about you.  We didn’t even know how to get in touch until Harry sent a telegram.”  He held her face in his hands, searching for any trace of the injuries he’d been told about, flinching slightly at the newly-healed scar on her eyebrow.  “How have you been?  Did it all go smoothly?”  
She glanced out into the hallway.  “You’re alone?”  
“Yup.”  He watched her carefully.  “Were you expectin’ Heyes?”  
Her eyes became more guarded.  “No.  Not at all.  You’ve just arrived?  You must be hungry after that journey.”  
“I sure am.  I’ve just checked in here.  You fancy joinin’ me for lunch?”  
She smiled.  “Of course, let me get my jacket.

They sat facing one another over the red-chequered table cloth, The Kid observing her with a careful scrutiny before he poured them both a glass of water.  “How have you been, Abi?”  
She shrugged, giving him a smile.  “Fine.  Wheat and Kyle send their regards.”  
“You saw them?”  
She nodded.  “They were a big help.  They’d found Harris, and were debating the best way to hand him over to the law when I came across them.  They were very sweet – they wouldn’t leave me alone with him, and only headed off when the posse was nearly on us.”  She sipped at her water.  “They even came back, because Harris made a break for it.  Wheat really put himself in danger to look after me.  He had to meet the sheriff.  I owe him.”  
Kid smiled.  “I’m glad to hear it, Abi.  Wheat would hate a man like Harris.”  He frowned.  “I read about the Winters family in the newspapers. Terrible…”  
“It was,” Abigail replied.  “It took nearly three days for that poor woman to die.”  She sighed heavily.  “Let’s talk about something more cheerful.  You met Anya?”  
Kid grinned.  “She’s beautiful.  A real special little girl.”  He paused.  “I did want to talk to you about her.  Heyes needs to meet her.”  
She nodded.  “We’ve spoken about that.  I’ve told Mr. Heyes that I will make arrangements when all this is over.  It shouldn’t be long now – not now we have Harris.”  
“Yeah, I read your letter.  Heyes showed me.”  The Kid sat back waiting for her to respond, but she merely smiled benignly at him.  He eventually gave in.  She was as stubborn as Heyes, and if he didn’t break the silence, they could sit here all afternoon.   “It was a real sad letter.”  
“It was a real sad meeting,” she replied, paraphrasing him with precise attention.  “I truly regret going to the Double J.”  
Kid reached out a hand, clasping hers.  “He’s sorry, Abi.”  
“That makes two of us.”   
She pulled her hand away as the waitress brought their meals over and deposited them in front of them.  “Do you folks need anything else?”  
Abigail shook her head.  “Not for me.  This all looks great, thanks.  Jed?”  
“Nothin’ else for me, ma’am.”  They watched the waitress bustle away.  “I don’t think you understand what I mean, Abi.  He’s sorry he treated you so badly.  Really sorry.”  
“That’s kind of him; tell him I’m sorry too.”  Abigail prodded idly at her fried chicken.  “I don’t know how long it will take for Harry to get the chance to interview Harris.  He’s been trying for the last three days.”  
“Don’t change the subject, Abi.  You know what I want to talk to you about.”  
She flicked up dark eyes, fixing him with a hard stare.  “I don’t want to fall out with you too, Jed, but there’s nothing to talk about.”  
“I don’t agree.  I made the point of coming all the way out here to see you about this.  He’s been confused.  He was completely broken down in that place.  His head just wasn’t in the right place, and seeing you took him right back to the last moment he saw you.  He regrets that, and wants to see you again.”  
“I accepted his apology, and I told him I was sorry too.  I can’t see that there’s anything else to be said on the matter.”  
“You used to confuse him, even when he was at his best, Abi.  He never really knew where he was with you.”  
“Where he was with me?  I had exactly the same problem.  We were both drawn to one another, but we had to back off because we were on different sides of the law.  We’d get close because we couldn’t resist, but we had to walk away because it had the potential to destroy us all.  It happened over and over again, but when that started to affect a child it had to end – he simply can’t forgive me for that.”     
The Kid picked up his cutlery, deciding on taking another tack.  “If that’s how you feel, Abi.  I always thought you two were made for one another, and he does forgive you.”  
“He was a fully-fledged criminal when I knew him.  He knew that I couldn’t live life on the run, yet during that time he made no effort to break down that last barrier.  There was no talk of amnesty then, and he didn’t do anything to build a life with me for my own sake – and now he blames me for ending that?  It couldn’t go on.  It was torture for me - it was torture for both of us; but I couldn’t let it harm Anya.”  
“Prison focused his mind on what he wanted in life, and you had a lot to do with us going for amnesty.”      
“Really!?”  She gave a snort.  “He seems to think I was especially hard on him.”  
“You were the law, and he was a criminal.  Other folks were hard on him too, and managed to stay friends.  He’s close to Kenny the warden.”  
“I suspect the nature of our relationship was different, Jed.”  
The Kid grinned.  “No argument there.  Kenny’s married.”  
Abigail fixed him with resigned eyes.  “What do you want, Jed?”  
“I want you to come back with me.  Heyes has now gotten his head together and he wants to see you.  There are a lot of things he needs to tell you.”  
“I’m not going back, Jed.  I’m sorry you’ve had a wasted journey.”  
“Abi, you have unfinished business.”  
“My business with Mr. Heyes is about as finished as anything can be.”  
“No, it’s not, Abi.  You have a child together.  That’s a lifetime commitment.”  
She toyed idly with her food.  “I know, and I’ve dealt with the relationship with his daughter, but he wasn’t interested in me.  I’ll go further than that – he was positively hostile.  My way ahead is very clear now.”  
The Kid tapped his fingers on the table.  “Yeah, he told me about the horse trough.  I’d have given anything to see that.”  His eyes glittered with laughter before he turned serious. “He told me he’s never loved anyone the way he’s loved you.  He thinks he went on the attack because he couldn’t take losing you again.”  
“That makes no sense at all!  Are you telling me he drove me away to save himself the pain of losing me?  Besides, all his feelings are in the past – he’s moved on.”  
“He wasn’t thinking straight, Abi.  You may have noticed that when you walked in on his nightmare.”  His gaze wandered over her face.  “You’ve healed well.”  
“I had the stitches removed a few days ago.”  She dropped her eyes.  “Jed, please leave this or I’ll walk out.  He’s found someone else.  He may deal with the idea of me, but when I’m there he can’t stand the sight of me.  Has anyone thought about the effect all this has had on me?  I can’t take any more.”  
“I have, Abigail.  You lost your daughter in the worst possible circumstances, but then you went on the run because Heyes wasn’t about to leave you to stand trial alone.  That put you in a lot of danger – you weren’t to know it’d all work out.  You could have ended up in jail for a long, long time – just to save Heyes.”   
“He wouldn’t have gone.  I had to do something,” she murmured.  “If there’d been a trial, he’d have stayed – and he’d have been locked up.”  
“Yup, and you made sure that didn’t happen by runnin’ off.  I appreciate that, Abi.  Not everyone in your position would have cared.”  He reached out his hand and clutched at hers.  “And you’ve killed, Abi.  I know how that feels.  I know what that does to you.”  He looked into her eyes pushing home his message.  “That’s easy for some folks, but it isn’t for you.  I understand that.”  The Kid sighed.  “We now both understand why you sent him away when you had Anya.  You were right, it was best for her.”  His long fingers curled around her hand.  “How are the dreams?”  
She gave a gasp of exasperation.  “Are there no secrets between you two?”  
The Kid gave her hand a pat.  “Some, but he told me you helped… he also told me how low you got.  Abi… I’d have helped.  You could have found me if you’d wanted to.”  
“You come as a pair… then I found out I was pregnant again.  Contacting either of you wouldn’t have helped.  It would have made things worse.”  
He looked deeply into her eyes, willing her to understand.  “Abi, you were so alone you tried to kill yourself, for God’s sake!  I didn’t know you were so desperate.  Didn’t you think we’d look after you at your lowest point?”  
She looked down at the tablecloth, her lashes forming perfect crescents against her pale skin.  “No…”  She tugged at her hand, but he held firm.  “You look after him.  I’m on my own.  I know that now more than ever.”  
The Kid groaned.  “You’re not, Abi.  You can ask us for anything.”  
Abigail dragged her hand away and stood.  “As long as he doesn’t have to lay eyes on me?”  She shook her head.  “He’ll meet his daughter, and I’ll keep my side of the deal.”  She tossed down her napkin.  “Seeing him told me that it wasn’t about me anymore; in fact it probably never was.  I was just another challenge to him.  I’ll see you around, Jed…”  
The Kid watched her stalk from the restaurant.  Heyes had been right; this wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d hoped.  Why had he made that promise to Heyes? 

Great puffs of steam blasted out from the train, obscuring Abigail’s skirts as she walked along the platform.  She looked sharply up at the whistle, its shrill scream grating on her psyche.  The murky, opaque cloud faded, gradually revealing the long legs and sheepskin jacket of the Kid.  He smiled, bright blue eyes cutting through the grey vestiges of vapour before it dissipated into the cold winter air.  “Harry told me I’d find you here.”       
She raised her eyebrows.  “I was shipping Jesse’s horse back to him.  I’ve just signed the manifest.”  
“Berry?  He’s a real nice, little colt.  Is he all settled in?  That’s a long journey for him.”  
“He’s fine.  I just made sure he had plenty of fresh straw and oats.  He’ll be checked when they get to the next stop in about five hours.  There are two other horses in there too, so he has some company.”  
The Kid smiled.  “Can I see him?”  
“The train’s due off any moment.”  
The Kid scanned the platform.  “Most of the doors are still open, we got time.  Show me.”  
They strolled along, passed the wagon and freight cars until they reached an open car.  “He’s in here.”  Abigail made a nickering sound before calling out to the animal.  “Berry, we’ve come to say goodbye again.”  
A pair of big, brown eyes followed the velvet nose out of the stall, puffing in excitement, and flicking his ears forward.  Two humans?  Maybe he was getting out for a ride?  
The Kid walked in, stroking the nose before stretching over and patting Berry’s neck.  “Good boy, you’ll be alright for the journey.”  He looked around at the two other heads reaching out to see why their new friend was getting so much attention.   
“Aw, look, they want some fuss too,” Abigail murmured, rubbing her face on the nearest muzzle.  “He should be fine.  He’s got company.”  
“Yeah,” the Kid wandered further into the car, looking around.  “It’s not good to be lonely.  Is there another horse to come?  The stall at the end is empty.”  
“I very much doubt it.  The train’s off any moment.”  As if to confirm her words, the voice of the conductor echoed around on the platform, followed by the shrill blare of his whistle.  The sounds of doors slamming shut reverberated through the train.  “We’d better get off.  It’s leaving.”  
The Kid nodded.  “Yeah, it is.”  
She looked up at him, standing between her and door.  “Seriously, we need to go.”  
The Kid gave a heavy sigh.  “I’m sorry about this, Abi.”  
She arched her eyebrows in surprise.  “Sorry about what?”  
He strode forward and wrapped an arm around her, lifting her off her feet while clamping his other hand firmly over her mouth.  He quickly dragged her into the end stall, falling on top her, pinning her to the ground.  She fought, overcome with disbelief and shock, but she was no match for the strength of a man who had at least fifty pounds on her.   
“Sshh!” the Kid hissed in her ear.  
She heard the conductor at the door of the carriage and kicked out, only to find the Kid clamping her into immobility with his legs.  She frantically tried to scream, but the muffled cry was lost against the face full of straw, the gloved hand, and the excitement of the horses who reached over their stalls trying to assess if the humans were playing or fighting.  Should they be worried about this turn of events?  In the face of no actual confirmation, they decided to snort and roll their eyes, their hooves clopping and banging on the wooden floor, ready to flee if things took a turn for the worse.  Her muffled cries were completely lost in the excitement.     
“Clear,” someone shouted, before the door was slid firmly shut.  
She struggled harder.  What the hell was he doing?  This train was about to leave.  “Mmnnuugh!”  
“Wriggly little thing, ain’t you,” chuckled the Kid.  “I’ll let you go in a minute, once we’ve got goin’.”  
She squawked in frustration, but the train had started to move, chugging slowly out of the station.  The Kid relaxed his hold, still keeping his hand firmly clasped over her mouth.  “Not long now, Abi.  We just need to get up to full speed.  We’ll be well out of the station, then you can scream your head off as much as you like.  Nobody will hear you.”  
He felt her groan in vexation, hearing the station slip further and further out of earshot.  The rhythm and throb of the engine grew until it maintained an even throb.  He released her, and sat back against the wall of the stall, waiting for the inevitable explosion.  She climbed to her knees, blasting the hay from her mouth and picking pieces from her dishevelled hair.  
She stared into the eyes glittering amusement, her hands clenching into little fists of anger.  “WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE PLAYING AT!?”  
“You wouldn’t talk to me, Abi.  I need to speak to you somewhere where you can’t scuttle out in a huff.”  
“Scuttle!?  Huff!?  This is kidnapping.”   
He tilted his head.  “Yeah, I guess I’m gonna have to throw myself on your mercy there.”  He gave her his most glittering smile.  “I’m not as good with words as Heyes, I’m more of a doer.  This way, we’ve got five hours with nothin’ else to do but talk.  If you’d have been Heyes I’d have cracked him on the jaw; I can’t do that to you.”  
She sniffed.  “What did you push me into!?  Urgh,” she looked around as the reality of the situation sank in and slumped down into the hay, the jagged elbows of her folded arms levelled at him like gun barrels.  “What are you thinking!?”  
“You’ll have regrets for the rest of your life if you don’t talk to him.”  He raised his eyebrows to echo his smile of appeasement.  “One talk – one chance.  He’d be here himself, but the terms of parole make that hard for him.”  He gave her his most innocent look but the underlying glint of humor shone through.  “Abi, I’d never have done that to you if it wasn’t important, but you need to give it one last try.  How can I persuade you?  Doesn’t it show how desperate I am?”  
“Desperate!?” she dropped her head into her hands.  “There are some things you can’t force.  You know that.”  
“Abi, I only want to talk.  At the next stop, we’ll go wherever you want to go.  I’ll make sure you’re safe, and I give you my word of honor I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”  
“You, of all people - I trusted you, Jed.”   
“And you still can, Abi.”  He rested his arm on his crooked knee.  “Can you honestly say you wouldn’t have regrets, in the wee small hours of the morning, if you don’t give it one last try?  You’re free to do that now, for the first time in your lives.”  
Abigail fixed him with anguished, dark eyes.  “He’s moved on, Jed.  I won’t go back to be humiliated.  Why won’t you listen to me?  It’s over.”  
His eyes softened.  “Abi, he and Randa have called it a day.  They both knew he had unfinished business with you.”  
Her brow knotted in curiosity.  “She finished it, I know she did – he didn’t.”  
The Kid nodded.  “Yeah, but before he could, she beat him to it.  It seems everyone can see this but you.”  
“Me?  All I saw was a man who could barely bring himself to look at me.  He talked briefly, but only after he was hit by the shock of beating me.”  
The Kid pulled off his hat.  “Abi, I had a long talk with him.  He wants to see if he can make it work with you.  He’s confused, about you, Randa, prison - even about why you’d encourage him to see another woman.”        
“He’s moved on, Jed.  I tried to make that alright for him.  I was trying to get out of this with some dignity.”  She tugged at her hairdo, lopsided and full of straw.  “You just don’t seem to want that to happen, so you?”  
“Dignity?”  The Kid sighed.  “It only takes a few minutes to say goodbye to someone, but it takes the rest of your life to try to forget them.  Where’s the dignity in regret?  I’ve never found any, and God knows; I have enough regrets to build my own jail cell.”  
“I know all about regrets, and the one thing I don’t want to do is add to them.  I don’t want a man I have to chase and fight for attention.”  She let her head drop back against the wall and closed her eyes.  “I don’t have the energy for this anymore.  Why can’t I just have a normal life; like any other woman!?”  
The Kid moved over to sit beside her.  “Because you’re not like any other woman, darlin’.  You don’t fit into the peg holes life gave you, so you went out and made your own.  So did Heyes… and he wants to see you.”  He looked over at her.  Trails of tears where running over her pale skin and her chest heaved in silent sobs.  He watched her, noticing for the first time that her defences were crumbling; she was always so guarded, so emotionally reserved; but that was breaking down before his eyes.  Was she weakening, or had her relationship with him changed along with their circumstances.  The Kid reached over and stretched a comforting arm around her.  “What are you scared of, Abi?  You can tell me.”  
Abigail dropped her head, taking in gulps of air, hesitating to vocalize her worst fear.  
“Abi, you’re as bad as Heyes.  You’re too scared of bein’ hurt to open up, so you’re hidin’ from life.  Stop it.  Haven’t you learned that doesn’t work?”  He gently brushed away a tear.  “You know, for real smart folks, you two have a way of reinventin’ dumb.”    
She spoke, but was unable to hold the Kid’s gaze.  “I’m afraid I’ll find out that it never mattered at all… if I don’t go back, I’ll at least have that…”  
“Aw, darlin’, is that all?”  The Kid held her close, rocking her gently in time to the motion of the train.  He smiled softly.  “I can promise you that’ll never happen.  I wish Heyes had asked me for something so easy to deliver.  He asked for you.”

To Be Continued  
            


	5. History Repeating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heyes and Abi's relationship begins to heat up
> 
> Heyes gets the opportunity to confront Harris

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graphic sex

History Repeating.

The Kid opened the door to the Double J. and stepped aside to allow Abigail to enter before him.  Heyes leaped to his feet, a smile apprehensively dimpling his face.  “You came?  Abi!  Thanks for hearing me out.”  
She turned dark eyes, swirling with a symphony of moods, in his direction.  “Mr. Heyes, I understand you wanted to talk to me?”  
Heyes gave a curt nod.  “I do, Abi… and I want to apologize.  You came here to help and I treated you real badly.”  
She gave a huge sigh.  “In fairness to you, Mr. Heyes, I think we need to postpone our conversation until I’m in a better mood.” She scowled at the Kid before smiling at Jesse.  “May I have a bath?  And I also wondered if Beth, or your wife, might have some clothes I could borrow.  I have arrived without any baggage and I stink of horses.  Even two days travelling didn’t seem to do much to fade the odour.”  
“Horses?  I thought you came by train?”  Heyes’ brow furrowed in curiosity.  “That’s what Kid’s telegram said.”    
“We did.”  Abigail swept into the room and stared sadly at the squashed hat she deposited on the table.  “Completely beyond repair.  I loved that hat.”  
“I’ll get you another,” the Kid muttered.  
Heyes sniffed.  “Come to mention it, you don’t smell so much like horses…  you smell more like horse shi…”  
“I’m acutely aware of what I smell of, Mr. Heyes.  That’s why I need the bath.”  
Jesse darted glances between Heyes and the Kid.  “I’ll get a vat of water boiled up for you.  Please go up to Beth’s room and see what you can find.  You’ll be welcome to anything suitable.”  
The men watched her disappear up the stairs before Heyes turned to Kid.  “What’s going on?”  
The Kid hesitated.  “Well… I kinda… sorta…” he shrugged.  “Maybe just a little bit…”  
“He kidnapped me,” Abigail yelled down the stairs.  
“Not completely!”  
  Heyes strode over to the staircase and looked up at her.  “I’m sorry, Abi.  I never told him to do that, honestly,” he stared at the Kid.  “How can you ‘not completely’ kidnap someone!?”  
Kid shrugged.  “Only for the first bit.  She agreed to come the rest of the way.   
“The first bit?” demanded Heyes.  
“He pinned me face down on the floor in a horse box until the train pulled out of the station.”  Abigail’s head bobbed over the stairwell again.  “That’s when I lay in the dung.”  She disappeared for a moment only to reappear.  “And on that cute little hat.”  
Kid shifted defensively.  “I had to.  She wouldn’t talk to me, and we were shut in there for five hours until we got to the next stop.”  He gave Heyes a conciliatory smile.  “I used the time.  I persuaded her, didn’t I?  Don’t I get credit for that?  She’s as stubborn as a hungry mule.”  
Abigail hung over the banister again.  “If I’d known how you were going to behave, I would never have agreed to travel with you.”  
Kid shifted his weight onto one leg.  “Abi, either come down here and say your piece, or stop bobbin’ back and forth like a teeter totter.  You’re makin’ me look bad here.”      
She strode down the stairs, pausing halfway.  “I’m making YOU look bad!  I sat there whilst the whole train thought I was some kind of sex maniac.”  
Kid raised his hands in appeasement.  “It was funny, Abi.”  
“For you, maybe.  Do you know how those women looked at me?”  
Heyes shook his head in confusion.  “What?”  
Abigail pointed an accusing finger at the Kid.  “When we got to the first stop, we explained that we’d been accidentally shut in the horse box.  The conductor accepted that and allowed us to pay the full ticket price.  What I didn’t know, was the reason he told him we’d been shut in the car.”  
The Kid widened his eyes angelically.  “Heyes, you know how it is when they catch folks ridin’ freight.  They’re none too sympathetic unless you can give them a really good excuse.  We could have ended up in jail.”  
Heyes folded his arms.  “So what excuse did you give them, Kid?”  
Abigail sat on a step.  “He told them we were newlyweds who couldn’t wait, and that I was out of control – except I didn’t know he’d told them that, because I was desperate, and ran to the latrines.  We’d been on that train for five hours!”  She scowled at the Kid.  “It’s alright for men – all he needed was a bit of privacy and a bottle.”  
“They bought it didn’t they?  We could have been prosecuted, Abi.  We didn’t have a ticket – I had to give a good reason for not havin’ time to buy one.”  The Kid smiled charmingly.  “It was all I could come up with for a man and woman to get locked in a freight car together.  At least I told them we were married.  It could have been worse.  I never took you as a prude.  I didn’t think you’d mind.”  
“I don’t mind when I’ve chosen to put myself in a situation, not when it’s foisted upon me.  All that time – women staring at me as though I was some kind of degenerate, and men winking at him like a hero; whilst I sat there and pulled straw from places I never knew I had.”  
Jesse swallowed down a chortle.  “When did you find out, Abi?”  
“This morning – I had put the odd looks down to the way I smelled,” she smiled weakly at Heyes and shrugged.  “Then the guard came up to us and asked if we wanted to buy some ‘privacy’ in the baggage car.  The way he leered at me!”  Abigail shuddered, casting accusing eyes at Kid.  “And then he gave a salacious wink, like the worst kind of low-class, vaudevillian comic.  What must they have thought we were doing when we went off to have that long chat last night?  You made me out to be some kind of rutting animal.”  
“In fairness, they looked at me the same way, Abi.”  
“Yes!  And didn’t you just love it?  I saw you, swaggering about like some kind of Don Juan.”  
“Don what?” asked the Kid.  
“Juan!” barked Abigail, pronouncing it with the Spanish guttural ‘ch.’  
The Kid blinked innocently.  “Is that one of your Scottish swear words, Abi?  I just ain’t gettin’ it.  Is that a bad thing?”  
“Not for you, it’s not.”  
“Good,” the Kid nodded, smiling at Heyes.  “I was beginnin’ to think you might be angry at me.”  
Abigail gave a growl of frustration.  “Oooch!  I’m going up to find some clean clothes.”  
“You do that, Abi, and think of the bath,” the Kid put his hands on hips, pulling back his sheepskin jacket.  “All that warmth spreading over you will make you feel so much better.”  
“Not necessarily.  I had something warm spreading over me in that horsebox, remember?  It’s not always a good thing.”  She stood and climbed the stairs again, disappearing in the direction of Beth’s room.   
   
  The Kid watched Abigail walk into the kitchen dressed in Beth’s dark blue skirt and white blouse; her hair still wet from the bath.  “Have you cheered up, Abi?”  Kid did his best to make his blue eyes ring with contrition, but failed miserably.    
She gave him a moue, before breaking into a reluctant smile.  “I suppose it was a bit funny.”  She glanced around the kitchen and sat down.  “Where is everyone?”  
“Tendin’ to the animals.  Heyes is out there, if that’s who you mean?”  He nodded towards the range.  “We’ll have dinner when they get back.”  
She sniffed the air.  “Stew?”  
“Yup.  It’s about all Jesse can cook, but we don’t mind – he’s real good at it.”  
Abigail nodded.  “Shall I set the table?”  
“You don’t have to.  We generally just grab what we want.”  
Abigail raised an eyebrow and gave a lopsided smile.  “Still?  I thought you’d gone straight.”  She stood, busying herself with the cutlery.  “Move your elbows. Jed.”  
The Kid sat back to allow her to lay out the table in a more orderly fashion than they generally enjoyed in Belle’s absence.  “We’ll clear out after dinner to let you two talk.”  
Abigail gave him a hard look.  “We’ll talk when he’s ready.  If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you can’t push him at the moment.  He has to come around in his own time.”  
The Kid grasped her hand.  “Thanks, Abi.”  
“For what?”  
“For comin’ back.  No matter what happens it’s one more thing he needs to work through.  You know that, as well as I do.”  
Abigail dropped her head and nodded.  “Parting as friends would be nice.  Best for Anya.”  She gave his hand a little squeeze.  “And thanks.”  
“You’re welcome, Abi.”  The Kid tilted his head, “but who says it has to be goodbye?”  
Abigail gave a sigh of resignation.  “I saw the way he looked at Randa.  I’ll be going very soon,” she patted his shoulder.  “Right after you buy me a new hat.”  
   
Heyes looked up from his plate fixing Abigail with intense dark eyes.  Jesse gave the Kid a nudge, pushing his plate away.  “Come on, Jed, we’ve got that thing to do.”  
“Oh, already?” the Kid wiped a slice of bread around his plate, reluctant to leave his half-finished meal.  
“Bring it,” muttered Jesse, rolling his eyes.    
The Kid nodded, lifting his plate before shrugging and turning back to the pot and ladling on another portion.  “What?” he demanded, grabbing a bread roll and following Jesse from the room.  “I’m hungry!  It was a long journey.”  
Abigail and Heyes watched the door to the kitchen close gently behind them before Heyes cleared his throat.  “Abi, I want to thank you for coming back.”  
She nodded uncertainly.  “Thanks for asking me to come, or… well… making the arrangements through Jed.”  
“I wish I could say I’m sorry about the way he brought you here, but I’m not.  I need to look you in the eye and ask you how you feel about me.”  
Abigail gulped nervously.  “I love you Mr. Heyes.  I always will.”  
Heyes bit into his lip.  “But are you ‘in’ love with me?”  
She sighed.  “Does it matter?  I’ve seen the way you look at Randa, and I’ve tried to do all I can to help you move on with my best wishes.  I care deeply for you, Mr. Heyes, that’s the only reason I steered you towards her.  I wish you well, and I want you to be happy.”  
“I wish you the same, Abi,” he reached out and took her hand over the table, “but what if I’d never met Randa?”  
“I don’t do hypotheticals, Mr. Heyes.  You did.”  
Heyes nodded.  “I met you too, Abi.  She saw the same as you did.  She called things off.”  
”So Jed told me.  How do you feel about that?”  
He dropped her hand and sat back with a heavy groan.  “I won’t lie to you, Abi.  It hurt – a lot.”  
Abigail felt her stomach turn to lead.  She felt sick, but she swallowed it down and nodded.  “Yes.  I know how that feels.  I would like us to part as friends, if that’s possible.”  
Heyes’ eyes filled with angst.  “Why?  Why do you need to go?”  
Abigail shook her head in bemusement, her voice rasping with emotion.  “Because you have just told me you love Randa.  Why would I stay?”  She strode over to the staircase and swept upstairs.  “I knew this was going to be a bad idea.  You could have told me you love another woman in a letter.  What was the point of this?”  
Heyes darted after her.  “Abi, that’s not why I wanted to see you!  I didn’t bring you here to tell you I love another woman.”                  
The Kid and Jesse looked up at the ceiling where the voices carried through from the upper storey.  
“But you did.  It always comes back to that.  I don’t play second fiddle.”   
“I’m sorry, but it was a shock seeing you again.  You throw up a lot of bad memories for me and it just comes out wrong.”  
“Bad memories, Mr. Heyes?  Thanks a lot.  I couldn’t avoid my pain for ten years; I face it every time I look at our daughter, but I still managed to treat you with kindness and grace.  This is something you need to face.”   
“Didn’t you think prison might have changed me?”  
“Didn’t you think motherhood might have changed me?”  
“Abi, we’ve always had that attraction.  It’s still there.  Randa saw it, even though you did your best to be casual.”  
“I was trying to help you, now do me a favor and stop bringing me here to rub my nose in it.  That’s just plain mean.”  
“Abi, I thought you never wanted to see me again – that didn’t stop me dreaming about you in prison.  Hell, it didn’t stop me dreaming about you from the moment I rode away.”  
“Then use your dreams and stop hurting me!  Let me get on with my life.”  
“You were always so adamant that you didn’t want a man!”  
“I didn’t want a criminal; that was an easy answer.  
Heyes paused.  This was the woman who had inflamed him in the past – she had squared up to the outlaw leader in the way no man had dared, let alone a woman – but then Kid Curry was never going to deal with Abigail the way he’d dealt with men who opposed him.  She excited him, and he still wanted her, but doubt flickered through his mind with raw memories of Marion still festering.  Was that why he held back from her?  “Don’t push me, Abi.”

Her eyes narrowed, reading the reserved hunger harnessed by fear.  “Push you?  I’m not pushing you.  What’s wrong with you?”

Heyes paused.  “Yes, what is wrong with me?”  He gave a heavy sigh.  “I love you, Abi, and we have a child together.  That should be enough for any man.”  
She turned away.  “But it’s not – so there’s no question in my mind – it’s nowhere near enough for me.”  
Heyes felt a pang of want run through him.  “I don’t want you to go, Abi.”  
“Well, that’s where you’re going wrong.  It’s not all about what you want.”  
Her words cut through him – but she was right – if he wanted either of these women he had to do something to let them know what they meant to him.  “Abi, I wanted you to come here to see if we could build a life together.”  
“We can’t.  I don’t get involved with other women’s men.”  She pulled back her shoulders.  “Not ever!  I’m better than that.”  
Heyes’ mind started to buzz, the brain fog created by years of anxiety fading just a little.  Abigail was standing firm on her pride after being brought here.  There were no games, no attempts to wheedle into his good graces or company, and no pressure – she simply stood in front of him and challenged him to either let her be, or love her.  He swallowed hard; he knew only one thing right now – he didn’t want to let her be.    
He cleared his throat.  “I’m not another woman’s man, Abi.”  
She gave him an impassive stare.  “Are you telling me the truth, Mr. Heyes?”  
His eyes softened.  “Yes, Abi, I was seeing a lovely woman, and then you bounced back into my life.  I can’t offer you anything, other than the certainty that I don’t want to lose you like this.  I don’t know what I’ll become, if we’ll be able to make this work, or even who I am anymore; but I do know this – we’ll regret this if we don’t try.”  
She stood considering his words in silence.  “You’re right.  It may not work.”  
“And that scares the hell out of me, Abi.  That’s why I behaved so badly.”  His dark eyes glistened with the light of the oil lamp.  “What do you think?”  
She walked over to the window and stared aimlessly out at the night.  “So, we agree that if this doesn’t work, we walk away on good terms?  We behave like adults who simply weren’t right for each other; for Anya’s sake?”  
He strode over and slipped his arms around her waist, hugging her gently from behind.  The calmness of her words seemed to bring sweet reason to quell the character-robbing foreboding.  “If that’s what’s best?  No pressure, just a day at a time?”  
She turned.  “We live a long way apart.  You are on parole and I have a daughter.  It won’t be easy.”  
“Nope, but it’ll give us plenty of time to find out if it’s worth the effort.”  He pulled her into his embrace then and feeling the firmness of her body pressing against him caused him to ache. But then the fear came rising up from behind and threatened to drown him. He hated himself for feeling that fear, feeling like that awkward adolescent again who nervously allowed a twenty year old prostitute to show him the way.  
Was he going to have to let Abi take him by the hand and show him the way? He sighed, feeling his heart beating hard against her. He oh so wanted to take control here; to be the man—to be the lover that he used to be. He took the plunge, at least on this first step and kissed her neck gently, causing her to arch her neck as the want flashed through her.  Heyes smiled in satisfaction.  The old Abi was still there; the passionate, vivacious, uncompromising woman who used to make him feel so alive.   
His first tentative step had been successful so he carefully moved ahead and tilting her chin up, he gently kissed her. The air left his lungs with the excitement that this intimate contact created and she felt him tremble.  
  Abigail pulled away from the kiss and arched her eyebrow.  “You always have to get the last word, don’t you, Mr. Heyes?”   
“Words are fine at the right time, but sometimes I prefer action.”  He curled a hand behind her head and leaned in to kiss her again, more softly this time. Then he fully embraced her and sighed; he felt so good with her in his arms. He began to feel that maybe he could do this. “Words are getting in the way of what we really want to say to each other.”  He stroked her face, acknowledging the burn of hurt swirling in her velvety eyes; not just of the here and now, but deep seated pain scored into her soul.  “I’m sorry. Abi, it wasn’t how I wanted it to be if I saw you again.  All these feelings just welled up.  I was confused.”  
“Feelings?  Well, at least you’re not indifferent to me.”  
Heyes groaned, running his lips down her cheek, nibbling at her jaw line.  “The last thing I am is indifferent to you, Abi.  I love you.”              
  “It's ten o'clock, our time.”  
Heyes looked into her eyes and nodded. Then he took her by the hand and led her over to the bed and they sat down, side by side and he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it gently.

“Ten o'clock.” He repeated with a nod. “You were my life-line Abi. Every night—well almost every night, I would think of you and hope that you were thinking of me; and it would give me hope. Hope that you still cared about me, that maybe, maybe even you loved me. Hope that maybe, I was still worth something.”

“Of course you're worth something,” she reassured him gently, placing a hand on his arm. “You're worth a lot. You have good solid friends surrounding you—people who worked hard to bring about your release. Do you really think they would have stayed the course if you didn't matter to them?” Then she sat back with a laugh. “My goodness! Jed even postponed his wedding for you! That should tell you something!”

Heyes grinned and nodded. “He always was more loyal than sensible!” But then the grin dropped and he turned serious. “But yeah,” he confirmed. “that does say a lot.”

Their eyes met again and held onto each other. People had said that he was an enigma but Abi was an enigma to him; he never knew what to expect from her. Looking into her eyes now he felt his desire for her intensify, but then that old nagging fear came up right along with it. His encounter with Marion was still so fresh to his ego that he was afraid of trying again—and failing again. Especially with Abi! Oh my God! Marion was bad enough and she was a stranger, she was someone he never had to see again. But Abi!?  
Doubt took hold and he was right back to that awkward adolescent again. What if he tried and failed? What if he disappointed her? She had such a sharp tongue! He couldn't take that now, he couldn't take her rejection now, her ridicule. What if he failed, what if he couldn't stay the distance? Fear overtook him and he looked away from her gaze and tried to detach himself from her touch, from her scent, from her very being.  
Abi saw the wavering in his eyes, saw the loss of confidence and she reached over and caressed his face with her hand. He looked up again and met her gaze but he was afraid, he was fearful and she saw it. But she didn't laugh at him, she didn't ridicule him like his inner demons had whispered in his ear that she would. Of course she didn't! She leaned in and kissed him gently on the mouth. Just a breath of a kiss, just a whisper.   
He didn't respond back—he looked away. He was trying so hard to trust—to let himself go, but now that they had come this far that fear seemed to grab hold and paralyse him. They were getting into dangerous territory now. With just a finger on his chin she turned his face towards her and again she kissed him.  
She felt him sigh and he returned the kiss—just a little bit, tentatively, but his breathing picked up a notch and she knew she had him. But she also knew that she had to tread carefully; passion could fuel the fear that she knew was there lurking and turn that fear into defensiveness and then defensiveness into anger. His tongue could be so sharp sometimes; he could cut deep with just a word. She took it slow for both their sakes.  
She gently caressed his cheek and then ran her hand down his neck and traced her finger along the scar that ran from ear to ear. She felt him tense so she changed tactics and moving in, nuzzled him along his jaw line, kissing his throat. He shivered from the ticklish sensuality of it.  
Her hands continued to caress and she slowly began to unbutton his shirt, playfully twirling her fingers through his chest hairs. He sat quietly, allowing her access, his breathing picking up as his arousal began to grow. She felt him tremble again as she continued to unbutton his shirt and then slip it off of him, releasing his arms from the material.  
She picked up his hand and caressed the scars that had welted up on his wrists. She brought his hand up to her face and kissed the palm and then moved her lips down and kissed the scars, running her tongue along them and changing them from something shameful to something wildly erotic. Heyes opened his fingers and cupped her face in his hand. Then he came forward and kissed her, feeling his passion, feeling his desire for her.  
They leaned in to one another and embraced, the kissing becoming more demanding, more desperate. Abi took hold of his henley and pushed it up and over his head and then tossed it to the floor. She held him close, ignoring the emaciation of his rib cage and slowly moving her arms around his torso Her fingers felt their way along until they found the whip welts and then she caressed them; making love to them with her hands. He instantly tensed again, fear taking another hold as he started to pull away from her. He didn't want to pull away, but the defensive walls came up and he simply reacted to that fear, to the memory of pain, to the crushing degradation.

“Shhh...” Abi breathed in his ear. “You're alright. You're safe with me.”

He pulled away from her and gazed into her eyes. She met him full on and all he saw there was love and compassion and he sighed a world full of sighs and he pulled her into him again and they kissed. It started out gentle, questioning, exploring, but as the passion was allowed to grow unabated the kiss grew in its longing. It became harsh and demanding and it overpowered all other emotions.  
They wouldn't remember how the rest of their clothing came off, but within moments it was all scattered over the bedroom floor and they were on the bed, embracing one another, their nakedness glued together. Their passion was on fire, their hearts pounding inside the others chest. Heyes was out of control! Too many times he'd dreamed of her; holding her in his arms, only to wake up alone, making love to himself and now that he well and truly had her, he couldn't stop; all those years of fear and pain and frustrations boiled up to the surface and totally engulfed him. He was brutal.

He lay on top of her, pinning her to the bed and grabbing her wrists, he held them in a vice above her head and he drove his mouth onto hers. He tasted blood where he had pushed his lips into one of her teeth but he didn't feel the pain, he only felt the driving lust. Abi met him full force, biting him on the chin, digging in and not letting go. Heyes emitted a strangled yell and drove into her, forcing her legs apart and seeking her prize.  
He didn't have to search for long. She opened up to him willingly and then he knew exactly where he was and he savagely pushed into her. She gasped with the joyous pain of it and then wrapping her legs around him she pulled him in deeper still and suddenly he couldn't breathe with the ecstasy of it! Ohh! Please! Don't wake up! Don't wake up! If he was still in his prison cot he wanted to stay asleep! He didn't want to come out of this dream that was so real—so passionate—so Abi!  
He came down hard on her mouth and she bit his tongue and wouldn't let go. Their heavy breathing mingled into each other and Heyes thrust his way into her up to the hilt and began to pound her mercilessly in his overpowering desire. And as in all other things, Abi met him full on! She took him at his worst—at his hardest and dared him to give more!  
And again, as in all other things, he rose to the challenge and came at her even harder. She tightened her legs around his hips and bit into his tongue until they both tasted blood and he continued to abuse her—continued to love her!  
When Abi finally released his tongue it was only because she was reaching her peak and she was gasping for air. Heyes felt her muscles tightening against him and he pushed even harder to keep it going. She arched her back and groaned out loud—and then he felt it; that glorious rush of her ejaculating around him and he moaned with the pleasure of it as he bit her chin and holding her tight felt his own release coming. He pushed even harder, not wanting it to end, but not wanting it to stop. He came into her then and she tightened her legs around him, holding him in while he continued to thrust right up until the very last.  
Then with limbs shaking, they collapsed into each others arms, their bodies sweating, their lungs panting for air. And they started to laugh! They held each other and kissed each other and continued to laugh in a joyous celebration until they were totally spent. Heyes raised himself on his elbows and gazed into her eyes. He smiled at her and gently kissed her eyelids, giving her a couple more halfhearted thrusts before he lost his grip completely and slid out of her.   
She smiled up at him and putting her arms around his neck she pulled him into a passionate kiss. Then they hugged one another and relaxed and lay there together in each others arms and bathed in the after-glow of love-making.

“I knew you were still in there Mr. Heyes,” was a gentle breath upon his ear.

 

The next morning Heyes woke up in his own bed in his own room under the stairs, the smell of freshly brewed coffee assaulting his nostrils. He started to get up and then stopped with an agonized groan! Oh my God! He could barely move! Every muscle he owned plus a whole bunch more he had forgotten about were screaming at him to just lay still and leave them alone!  
He lay back down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Oh my goodness! Still, coffee and the kitten were calling to him and he knew that he would have to get up sooner or later. So, with a resigned sigh he very carefully pushed himself into a sitting position and then gradually swung his legs over the side of the bed. So far so good. Slowly he reached for his socks and with some difficulty was able to pull them on, despite Mouse weaving in and out in her efforts to help him. He reached for his trousers and had to stop short with the pain in his back from that movement. He gritted his teeth and reached that little bit extra to grab his pants and get them organized enough that he could slowly put his feet—one at a time—into the leggings, and then pull them up, over his long-johns.  
He then slowly got to his feet and pulling his pants the rest of the way up, he buttoned up the fly and secured the belt. He then reached for his shirt and slowly began to pull it on, one arm at a time as he carefully made his way out of his bedroom. He came into the hallway and Mouse trotted past him and into the kitchen, looking for her own breakfast. Heyes followed her with his eyes to see that the stove was on and there was a pot of oatmeal slowly simmering on top of it. There was also a pot of coffee steaming away on the ring.  
Heyes smiled and moving into the kitchen, he grabbed himself a mug and poured his first cup of the morning. He held it up to his nose and breathed in. Ahhhh. Coffee. With eyes closed he took a sip and then flinched slightly as the hot liquid made contact with the teeth marks on his tongue. He smiled coyly and accepted the pain while he relished the flavour—thank goodness he was back to drinking strong coffee again! That was right up there with being able to eat steak!  
Mouse was being persistent so Heyes took a moment to ladle a spoonful of oatmeal into a bowl and put it down on the floor for her. He straightened and smiled at the little cat trying to eat the oatmeal without burning her tongue. He took another sip of coffee and sighing contentedly, made his way into the open living area of the main floor. Jesse and Jed were already seated at the table with their own coffees, discussing the plans for that day and waiting for the oatmeal to be ready. Heyes smiled and very slowly came over to join them.

“What's the matter with you?” Jesse asked him. “You look like you've been run over by a buckboard.”

“Oh, just a little stiff and sore,” Heyes mumbled. “Musta slept wrong.”

“Oh.”

Jed just sent him a look.

Heyes stiffly sat down just as they heard the upstairs bedroom door open, shortly followed by Abigail, snugly wrapped up in one of Beth's housecoats, slowly making her way down the stairs. She was holding onto the railing and taking each step one at a time and being very careful about it too. She wasn't aware of the three pairs of male eyes upon her until she stepped onto the main floor and happened to glance over at them.

“Is there any coffee?” she asked quietly.

“There's a fresh pot on the stove,” Jesse informed her. “Shall I pour you a cup?”

“No, no. That's alright,” she said as she partially raised a hand to settle him. “I'll get it myself.”

“Are you alright Abi?” Jed asked, full of concern. “You look a little—beat up.”

“No, I'm fine,” she assured him as she slowly shuffled her way towards the kitchen. “I'm just a little stiff and sore this morning. I must have slept wrong.”

“Uh huh.”

Abi disappeared into the kitchen. Jesse and Jed looked at each other and then over at Heyes. Heyes was focused on something inside his coffee cup. Jesse and Jed looked at each other again and then both of them broke out laughing.

Jesse shook his head and raised his hands in his own defence. “I don't want to know!” he said. “I don't want to hear anything about it!”

But later that day, when Jesse found himself in Jed's company again, his curiosity just couldn't let it lie.

“Have they always been like that?” he asked Jed. “I mean, one minute they're at each other's throats and the next....”

“Yup!” Jed nodded emphatically. “They've known each other—I donno, fifteen years? Maybe more now, and it's always been the same way. I learned that the safest place to be was 'outa range'.” Then he laughed. “It's kinda fun just sittin' back and watching the fireworks! Until I'd havta step in and stop them from killin' each other!”

The sun was shining again. Oh it was so nice to feel the warmth of that glow beaming down on him, taking away the chill of winter and bringing ease and comfort to his often aching limbs. He breathed deeply, taking the the scent of wild flowers and warm earth and sunshine. He was in an open meadow, casually strolling through the grasses, listening to the birdsong and the gurgling creek and the soft breeze in the leaves.  
“You're looking awfully content with yourself Heyes.”  
Heyes opened his eyes and smiled over at his companion. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Things are going pretty well right now.”  
“She is a looker. Are you sure she's who you want though?”  
Heyes' smiled turned to a frown. “Of course she is!” he insisted defensively. “What would make you think otherwise?”  
Doc shrugged. “The other one's quite a looker too.”  
“Well, yeah.”  
“You seemed real happy with her before Abi showed up. I just want you to be sure, that's all.”  
“Are you gonna start meddling in my love life too?!” Heyes demanded. “Geesh it's bad enough when Kid does it—but now you too!? Don't either one of you trust me to be able to make up my own mind?”  
“Nope.”  
Heyes sent him a exasperated look. Doc grinned.  
“Shit Heyes! I'm just teasin' ya'. C'mon, relax. Why are you getting so defensive?”  
Heyes looked a little sheepish but he did relax, and then smiled with a bit of a shrug.  
“I donno,” he mumbled. “Maybe I'm not real sure. When I'm with Abi, she's the one I want to be with. Then I run into Miranda in town and my heart just breaks cause I can't be with her. This just isn't fair!”  
“Hell, life ain't fair! Haven't ya' figured that one out yet!?”  
“Yeah, I know. Just once in my life it would be nice to have something important come easy!”  
Doc snorted. “Good luck with that one! Let me know when you figure out how to make it happen!”  
Heyes chuckled. “Yeah I will.” The two friends continued to walk in silence for a while, each off in their own thoughts. Then Heyes brought up something that he had been feeling kind of guilty about. “I tried to go visit you a while back,” he admitted. “I really felt as though I should, but....”  
“Ya' couldn't get passed the gate.”  
“Yeah. How did you know?” Doc sent him 'the look'. Heyes grinned and nodded. “Alright—stupid question!” He turned serious again. “Still, I really wanted to go pay my respects.”  
“Don't worry about it,” Morin assured him. “That's just a big hole in the ground with some bones buried in it. It's not really where I am anymore.”  
“Yeah, I know. It's just that....”  
“Don't worry about it!” Doc repeated. “You're not ready to say 'goodbye' yet, that's all. If ya' were we wouldn't still be meeting like this. Too much unfinished business.”  
Heyes took in a deep breath of the warm spring air. “That's for sure!” Then he held that deep breath and suddenly became tense and was looking around him in some distress.  
“What!?” Doc asked him, also looking around with concern although what he would have to be concerned about is anyone's guess. “What's the matter?”  
“What's gonna happen!?” Heyes asked, real fear showing in his eyes now.  
“What do ya' mean, 'happen'?! What!”  
“Every time I meet ya' like this Doc, it starts out real nice and pleasant and then before I know it the whole world changes on me and the next thing I'm back in the dark cell! Or Carson's beatin' on me or I'm hanging from that damn ceiling.....” Heyes grabbed hold of his friend's arm, hoping that the contact would keep him safe and grounded. “What's gonna happen this time Doc?!”  
“No, nothin'!” Doc looked irritated. “Fuck Heyes! You had me really worried there for a minute! You're passed all that crap now—you're on your way.”  
Heyes started to relax, a hopeful but tentative smile playing with his dimples. “Ya' mean I'm not going to be having any more nightmares?” That was almost too good to be true.  
“Well, no. You're still gonna have nightmares.” Heyes' smile disappeared; like he thought, too good to be true. “But they'll be normal nightmares—not the crippling ones I had to send to ya' in order to get your attention. OH! While I'm thinkin' about it; thank your lady friend there for helping ya' to finally understand the message! I was wearing out trying to get it through to ya'! And here I thought you were smart.”  
Heyes sulked a little bit. “You can hardly blame me,” he groused. “I'm not used to ghosts sending me messages.”  
“Hmm. Well at least you're on the right track now.” Then Doc chuckled. “The powers that be aren't too happy with Harris right now. He's gonna have some explaining to do when he comes our way.”  
Heyes frowned, feeling confused. “But I thought you said there was no right and wrong—just learning and growing.”  
“Yeah that's true.”  
“Well then....”  
“Doesn't mean that deliberately causing harm to others is encouraged!” Doc actually looked insulted. “He'll have to explain his reasons for doing it.”  
“I don't get it,” Heyes admitted. “First ya' say there is no right and wrong, then ya' say he's gonna have to explain himself. You tell me that seeking vengeance isn't what life is about then ya' drive me crazy with nightmares in order to get me to seek vengeance for ya'....this afterlife stuff is getting way too complicated for me!”  
“That's alright,” Doc shrugged nonchalantly. “You'll understand it better once you get here. Enough said about that stuff anyways—you don't need to know any more.”  
Heyes' jaw tightened as a slight flash of anger invaded his thoughts.  
“Now you're talking to me like I'm a child!” he complained.  
“You are a child.”  
“What'd ya' mean!?” Heyes was really insulted now. “I'm gonna be forty in.....”  
Doc snorted derisively. “You're a child!”  
Heyes sighed in frustration and was going to continue to argue the point when Doc changed the subject.  
“I gotta get going Heyes,” he announced. “It's time I was moving on.”  
Heyes' petulant anger quickly changed to fear. “Moving on?' he asked in a childlike whisper. “What do ya' mean?”  
Doc threw his arm out towards the vast horizon. “Movin' on! You know.”  
Heyes hung his head. “Oh.”  
Doc gave him a pat on the shoulder. “I won't go until you're ready to say 'goodbye'.”  
“I'll miss ya' Doc.”  
“Yeah well. I've been watchin' ya'--you'll be alright.” Heyes still looked dejected. “Tell ya' what; when you're ready to say 'goodbye', come to the cemetery. I'll make a point of being there so you're not just talking to a hunk of stone. And bring some whiskey with ya'! Top shelf. We'll share a bottle for ole' time's sake. How's that?”  
“I suppose,” Heyes mumbled.  
“It won't be so hard to do when you're ready,” Doc assured him. “In the mean time—get on with your life will ya'!? Stop wallowing in self-pity. Time to take the bull by the horns! Get after those assholes! You're on the right track now, so go get 'em! What's stoppin' ya'!?”  
“A little thing called a 'parole' Doc,” Heyes pointed out. “I practically need permission just to use the privy now!”   
“Oh bullshit!”  
“I do!!”  
“You can get around that and you know it!” Doc insisted. “C'mon Heyes—get after it! Time's a waistin'!”  
“I thought there was no time where you are.”  
“It's just an expression! You know what I mean!” Doc snarked. “Stop being such an irritating prick!”  
Heyes grinned. “Yeah okay Doc. I know what you mean.”  
“GOOD! Anyway, this conversation is wearing me out. I'll talk to ya' again later.”  
“Yeah, okay Doc.” Heyes smiled at his friend. “It was good to see ya'.”

Heyes slowly began to drift up into consciousness. He was warm and cozy in his bed but he could tell by the air around him that it was still winter and that the morning was chilly. Hmm, too bad. He'd been hoping that spring had actually arrived in Colorado. He didn't want to get up. He lay there with his eyes closed, pretending to still be asleep so that Mouse wouldn't get the idea that it was breakfast time.  
But then he made the mistake of stretching out and giving a yawn and the purring began. Heyes groaned, but then he smiled and opened his eyes to slits and glanced down to the foot of the bed. Mouse smiled back at him. She stretched out herself and then got to her feet and walked up the length of his body, causing him to cringe when she stepped on a delicate area, but she didn't care and kept on coming. She reached his face and started to rub her whiskers against his chin and then his nose. He made a face at the ticklishness of it and tried to blow her away. She purred on.  
“You're gonna insist on me getting up, aren't you?” he asked her quietly.  
Purr purr, rub rub. Heyes sighed. He really didn't feel like getting up and facing the chilly morning. Then the choice was made for him when a loud thumping on his bedroom door caused him to jump and send Mouse onto the floor.  
“C'mon Heyes!” came Kid's voice from the other side of the door. “Get up! Time's a wastin'!”  
Heyes smiled as the memory of his dream came back to him. That's exactly what Doc had said.  
“HEYES!”  
“YEAH! Yeah, I'm comin'.”  
“Coffee's on.”  
Heyes smiled. “Ohhh...”

Harris paced the cell like a caged animal, staring daggers and snarling at anyone who came too close to him. The attempts by these idiots to get any information out of him had all failed miserably. His regard for the whole lot of them, from that snake oil Bannerman detective right down to the lowly night shift deputy was of absolute total disdain. He'd slipped up once by admitting to having shot that Jordan girl, but never again—no sir! They weren't going to trick him again and he'd just like to see them try!

Out in the office of the jailhouse, those same law officials whom Harris was degrading under his breath were sitting around the desk, or pacing the room, wondering just what the next step should be.  
“Sheriff, I'm positive if you would just let me.....”  
“Mr. Brisco, you are not going back in there.” Andrews told him for the umpteen time. “That bastard would just as soon bite off his own ear than tell us anything, so unless someone here is willing to take a knife to him....” He looked around at the faces surrounding him, waiting for a volunteer. Nobody would meet his eye. “Right then. We're pretty sure he's the one who killed the Winters couple and he's already admitted to attempting to kill that young woman up in Colorado. Chances are he's also the one who did that to the little Bishop girl....” Everyone went silent then, lips firming up in angry hard lines. “God help us if there's more than one sadistic bastard running around in these parts.” Andrews sighed then and taking a deep breath, looked around at his companions. “He's still got a prison term in Wyoming waiting for him. I've had word from the warden up there that they want him back.”  
“But what about standing trial for what he done here!?” asked young Deputy Madryga. “Is he just gonna get away with that!?”  
“Yeah, don't Mr. and Mrs. Winters have a right to justice!?”  
“What about the Bishop's!? They're entitled to some closure!”  
“Yeah! Why should Wyoming get him!?”  
Andrews held up his hand for silence, but at the same time nodded his head in understanding of the anger his people were feeling.  
“Don't worry,” the sheriff calmed the enquiries. “Warden Reese isn't suggesting that Harris not stand trial for these new atrocities, only that Wyoming has a prior claim and after taking some time to think about it, I for one agree with this plan of action.”  
“What!?”  
“Why!?”  
“What do you think his chances are of having a fair trial here, in this state? That's if he even gets to trial,” Andrews asked the group. The grumbling he got back suggested that nobody cared if he got a fair trial or not. “By the laws of not only this state, but by the laws of this country, that sick bastard is entitled to a fair trial!” More grumbling but at least they had the decency to look sheepish. “Now you've heard what folks are saying just as much as I have. If we keep him here much longer we could very well wind up with a lynch mob outside our doors. He has got a lot of people up in arms and personally I don't want to have to deal with that. Lynch mob mentality is dangerous. Are any of you prepared to get killed protecting that son-of-bitch?”  
The sheriff was met with more grumbling. Nobody seemed too keen on that.  
“And another thing Sheriff,” Harry spoke up. “I was hired by the Jordan family to track down Harris and return him to that state for questioning. You folks here aren't the only ones who want a piece of his hide. It's up to me to make sure he gets back to Colorado—or Wyoming. Either one will do.”  
“That's hardly my first concern,” Andrews pointed out. “but that prison would seem to be the safest place to put him. It's not too likely that a lynch mob will get at him there and it'll be a lot harder for him to break out of a prison than one of these flimsy jail cells.”  
“I donno about that,” Madryga grumbled. “He broke outa that prison once already.”  
“Now it's suspected that he had inside help on that,” Harry put in. “That's another reason why I need to get him back that way. A lot of people have a lot of questions for him.”  
“Well a lot of people right here got questions...”  
“No, now Harold, calm down,” Andrews told his deputy. “Harris is gonna stand trial for what he done here, but he'll stand trial in Wyoming. What kind of jury would he get here, hmm? It would just be the same people from the lynch mob trying to hang him legal. Now I've already thought about it and I've made my decision! We're sending him to Wyoming—back to the prison. He'll be secured onto a special train with just him and an armed contingent of guards. You may also accompany him Mr. Brisco, if you so wish.”  
“Certainly!” Harry was quick to agree. “And I'll make sure personally that he gets there.”  
“Umm hmm.” Andrews didn't sound too impressed. “Fine. I'll make arrangements in the morning. Me and Harold will stay here for the night, the rest of ya' go home and get some sleep.”

Heyes dragged himself out of bed when the enticing aroma of not only perking coffee made it's way into his room, but also of sizzling bacon and frying eggs. All of a sudden he was very hungry. He pulled on his clothes and a warm sweater and opened the door for Mouse to go running out and head for the kitchen herself; she knew where the food was kept.  
Heyes had planned on letting Mouse wait a moment for her breakfast and head out to the privy first but then he caught the sound of humming coming from the cooking area and, if he was not mistaken; it very much sounded like it had a Scottish ring to it. He smiled. He was already feeling good this morning; no nightmares! What a relief! But hearing Abi's voice made him forget about everything else and he abruptly changed direction and headed for the kitchen.   
He quietly came up behind the familiar feminine figure and slipped his hands around her waist and then nuzzled in to the nap of her neck. Abi tensed but then gave a soft laugh as she gave his hand a gentle patting while she continued to tend to the breakfast.  
“You better not cause me to ruin breakfast,” she warned him. “It's not every morning I'll be doing this for you.”  
“I don't care,” Heyes whispered as he kissed her neck. “Just having you here when I wake up is breakfast enough.”  
“Really Mr. Heyes?” Abi asked him with a note of scepticism in her voice. “That's what you say now....”  
“Now and for always, Abi.”  
“Well, I see the coffee's not the only thing perking in here,” came Jesse's voice from the kitchen door.  
Both people jumped and instantly came apart, looking like they'd been caught with their hands in the honey jar. Jesse smiled and raised his cup.  
“Just came for a re-fill,” he assured them. “And somebody better feed that cat before she gets into the frying pan herself.”  
Abi turned with a start to find the large kitten up on the counter top and making her hungry way towards the stove and the frying bacon.  
“OH! Off with you!” she exclaimed and quickly shooed the cat off the counter.  
Mouse jumped down with a loud thump and a louder protest. She glared back up at this 'female' who had pushed her away, flicked her tail in annoyance and the trotted out of the kitchen to await the apology!  
Heyes laughed. “Oh dear,” he chuckled. “She is her mother's daughter after all!”  
“Why doesn't she go catch her own breakfast?” Abi asked. “Isn't that what barn cats are for?”  
“She's not a barn cat Abi.”  
“Then what is she for?”  
“Ah, well if you two will excuse me,” Jesse reached in by them to grab the coffee pot. “I did come in here for a reason.” He poured his refill, placed the pot back onto the stove and with a quick smile to Hannibal, made a hasty retreat. Heyes could get kinda testy when it came to defending his cat.  
Indeed, Heyes had sobered a little bit though still put in the effort to make light of it.  
“She was a gift from a friend,” he explained. “She'll always have a special place—she's a pet.”  
“I've heard of little old ladies having a cat for a pet,” Abigail commented, deliberately teasing him. “But a hardened ex-convict? People are going to think you're going soft.”  
Heyes smiled. “Maybe I am.” And he moved in again to continue on where they had left off.  
Abi shooed him away. “Don't get started Mr. Heyes,” she chided him. “Breakfast is almost ready. Go do your morning business and then get to the table. It's time to eat!”  
“Yes ma'am.”

It was Sunday—a quiet laid back kind of day and Heyes was feeling relaxed and rested. Finally! A night without any nightmares, not even a bad dream, just a pleasant conversation with a good friend It was a conversation that had left him wondering even more about the validity of what he thought he used to know. But those were just questions; uncertainties, not terrifying images that left him trembling and vulnerable to his night fears. Life was starting to look pretty good.  
He was sitting in the living room by the wood stove, enjoying yet another cup of coffee and being thankful for small pleasures. He was trying to read a book while Mouse was doing her best to occupy the same space as her literary rival.   
Heyes glanced down at the little furry intruder and stretched out a hand, running it gently down the cat’s back, enjoying the rich, silky, softness of the fur under his fingers. She raised her head, butting it gently into his hand and allowing it to cup over her velvet ears, demanding another stroke with a ‘gnuurr’ which sounded almost like a question.

“Want some fuss, do you?” he murmured.

“If you’re offering?” 

He glanced over at Abigail, a smile lightening his eyes. “I meant the cat.”

She gave a light laugh. “I know. She’s very demanding of your time, quite possessive.”

“Yeah, it’s my animal magnetism. Too bad it only works on animals.”

Abigail arched an eyebrow. “Are you calling me names?”

Heyes chuckled. “I wouldn’t dare.” He glanced around the room. “Just you and me - Kid and Jesse are at church, who’d have thought Kid Curry would be a regular churchgoer. You don’t go, Abi?”

She shook her head. “I’ve nothing against it; it’s just not for me. I guess I’ve seen and heard too much. Some things make it hard to believe in a merciful God. I find my peace in places like forests, or high on mountains. They feel like holy places to me. Some people commune better alone.”

Heyes nodded. “I know what you mean. I feel the same, especially when you can just be alone with your thoughts. I guess ours is more vengeful, more of an old-testament version, with a Garden of Eden.”

Abigail sighed. “I suppose.”

“Do you believe in ghosts, Abi?”

Her dark eyes suddenly became intense “Why do you ask?”

Heyes hesitated. “I had another dream. Doc Morin told me to thank you.”

“The doctor who was murdered? What was he thanking me for?”

“For telling me to ask him what he wanted, how did you know to do that?”

She folded her arms. “My mother told me to speak to my sister, Becky, when I kept seeing her in dreams after she died. It worked. She’s very Hebridean, full of Celtic twilight and fokelore – ghosts are something she’s very matter of fact about.”

“And you? I know you said you’d been haunted too. Did you mean that literally?”

Abigail paused. “I don’t know; I really don’t. It could be the mind playing tricks, or it could really be them. I just don’t have the answer, I keep an open mind.”

Heyes stared off into the fire. “I went somewhere at a really bad time. I thought it was heaven at the time, but I now suspect it was all in my mind. The doc was there.”

“The mind can be kind; it can shut out reality when it’s too painful.”

He turned back to her, fixing her with a hard stare. “Is that what you’ve found?”

“Sometimes,” she replied, simply. “Not always.”

He shook his head ruefully. “Yeah, not always. That doesn’t explain the doc, though. He’s adamant that one of the guards killed him.”

“Maybe you hate the guard so much you want it to be him.”

“Maybe. Kenny suggested the same thing.” Heyes sat back, caressing the cat again. “I’d like it to be him. I’d also like to think a part of the doc didn’t die.”

“A part of him never will,” Abigail smiled. “He’ll be around as long as you remember him.”

“I get the feeling he’ll be around until justice is done.”

“Yes, sometimes an injustice can ring loud and clear. I know how hard it can be to let these things lie.”  
She stood, wandering over to the window to look aimlessly out at the snow. “I’ve been there, it was the reason I became a Pinkerton. When my father was murdered I couldn’t let it be. I never saw him in dreams though; but my sister, Becky – and our Becky - I’ve seen them and spoken to them – just like you and Doc Morin. It feels very real,” she hugged her arms around herself. “It’s a comfort. I don’t much care if it’s all in my mind; I like to think they’re there, waiting for us. Sometimes the best way to be near someone is to simply hold them in your heart.”

Heyes stood, letting Mouse jump down from his lap. He walked over to Abigail and slipped an arm around her waist. “I dream of her too. I see her in a park on a sunny day; she’s learning to walk and stumbling towards me with her arms out for me to catch her.” His voice caught with emotion. “She’s laughing...”

Abigail turned, her eyes glistening with tears. “We have quite a history, don’t we?”

He pulled her to him, cradling her to his chest. “Yup, and we have the present too. Don’t forget that, Abi.” 

The rattle of a wagon made them both look out of the window. “They’re back.” Abigail pulled herself out of his arms. “I’ll put some coffee on, they must be freezing. I wonder if they have any news from Harry?” She smiled warmly. “Once this is over, you can come back to Topeka with me. You will meet Anya. I always keep my promises.”

The next morning started out as most working day mornings start; rise and shine, coffee, coffee, a hearty breakfast, coffee and a general discussion of what chores needed to be accomplished that day, over more coffee. On this particular Monday morning, breakfast had been finished up and everyone was indulging in a final stretch and a final nibble of bacon before cleaning up the dishes and getting on with the day's chores. The conversation around the table had been light and comfortable and Jed especially had a subtle smile on his face as he watched his partner throughout the meal.  
Heyes was happy. This was the happiest and most comfortable Jed had seen him since, well since coming home from the prison. It was as though a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders and he laughed and joked and infected everyone else around the table with his high spirits. Jed couldn't have been more pleased. Finally, finally he was seeing his cousin as he was before their trials, seeing him with that mischievous glint in his eyes and that big dimpled grin upon his face. His partner was finally beginning to heal.  
They heard the dogs start to bark then and knew that someone was coming.  
“That must be Sam,” Jesse presumed. “This is when he usually shows up. Guess it's time to get to work fellas.”  
“Oh, yeah,” came the unified response as everyone pushed their chairs back and stood up, preparing to get on with their day.  
Everyone grabbed their plates and cutlery and took them into the kitchen while Abi started to pump water into the tub for washing.  
“You know where everything is Abi?” Jesse asked her, still feeling awkward about a guest doing the chores.  
“Don't worry about me!” she assured her host. “I can find my way around a kitchen—just as soon as you men get out of my way!”  
“Oh alright! We're going!'  
The three men headed towards the front foyer and the coat tree when they heard booted footsteps on the outside porch and then a knock banging on the door.  
“Why would Sam be knocking on the door?” Jesse mumbled as he reached for the handle and pulled the door open. “Oh! Joe. What brings you out here on this chilly day?” Then Jesse's face paled as a terrible thought struck him. “Is something wrong? Have you heard....?”  
“No, no Mr. Jordan!” Joe instantly put him at his ease. “No, nothing like that.” Then he looked around Jesse and locked eyes with Hannibal Heyes. “Sheriff Jacobs wants to see you in his office—right now. I'm to escort ya' into town.”  
Heyes felt a debilitating chill go through him and he took an involuntary step backwards.  
“Ahh...what? What for?”  
“He didn't tell me,” Joe admitted. “He just said that he needs ta' talk with ya' and that I'm to escort ya' in—now.”  
Abi stepped quietly out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a towel and listening intently to this new conversation.  
“I'm sure there's no problem Hannibal,” Jesse tried to speak reason to the younger man. “I'm sure it's nothing to worry about.”  
The blood had drained from Heyes' face and he looked like he'd just seen a ghost—and not one that he knew either. Or maybe it was one that he knew, but one that he never wanted to ever see again. He felt the breath get knocked from his lungs as a real fear threatened to choke him.  
“Ah, did the sheriff say anything about me not coming in with him?” Jed asked, instantly back to feeling very protective of his partner.  
“Nope,” Joe admitted. “Don't think that would be a problem.”  
“Okay,” Jed nodded. “Jesse, do ya' mind...?”  
“No no,” Jesse was quick to assure. “That's probably a good idea. Why don't you take the buckboard in since you're going anyways and pick up that feed that's waiting for us at the mercantile.”  
“Yeah sure,” Jed nodded. “Good idea. I'll go get the team hitched up.”  
“And check for telegrams too while you're at it!” Jesse called after him as Jed grabbed his sheepskin coat and gunbelt and headed outdoors. Jesse turned back to the parolee. “Relax Han. If it was something serious he would have sent more than just Joe here to get you—sorry Joe; that's not to say that you're incompetent....”   
“Oh no, that's fine Mr. Jordan,” Joe smiled at him and then turned the smile over to Heyes, noting a little too late how much distress he had caused the man with his unexpected decree. “And he's right Mr. Heyes. If Sheriff Jacobs was planning anything more than just to talk to ya' he woulda' sent a whole posse out here ta' get ya'. And he woulda been sure to say ta' just bring you—alone.”  
Heyes swallowed and ran a nervous hand through his hair. “Yeah. Yeah, I suppose,” he turned and looked back towards Abi and she was looking concerned as well, but only over her lover's obvious distress.  
She smiled and gave him a haughty look. “Off you go, Mr. Heyes. It's time you stopped jumping at shadows every time a law officer wants to talk to you.”  
“Yeah, you're right. Of course.”  
Heyes stepped forward and took his hat from the rack and plunked it onto his head and then he shrugged into his blue brown grey corduroy leather winter all seasonal coat. He also took up his gunbelt, half expecting Joe to stop him but no reprimand came. Heyes felt some relief settle onto him and he strapped his gun on as he stepped out onto the porch. Jesse followed with his own coat and closed the door behind them.  
Abi stood where she was for a few moments, just staring at the closed door. Then she felt something brush against her ankles and she looked down to meet the green slitted eyes of Heyes' gift.  
“What do you want you piseag bheag bòidheach?"  
Mouse purred up at her. “Ack!”  
“Oh, I see.” Abi confronted her. “Now that your lord and master has left you're willing to look to me to feed you, is that it?”  
“Merrr.”   
“Well, c'mon—let's see what we've got!”  
Abi turned and walked back into the kitchen with Mouse trotting along at her heels. Her tail was up in anticipation of a tasty breakfast; left over bacon sounded pretty good.

The wagon ride into town was anything but relaxing. Heyes let Jed do the driving as he was far too distracted to be able to focus on the road. He kept his eyes staring ahead of them, watching the rump of Joe's horse swaying back and forth with the rhythm of the steady trot they were maintaining, but he really wasn't seeing what he was looking at.  
Finally Jed was getting a headache from all the silent noise going on beside him and he decided it was about time to burst that bubble his partner was suffocating in.

“C'mon Heyes, relax will ya'? It's not going to be anything bad.”

“I know.”

“If ya' know, then how come I can hear ya' screamin'?”

“I haven't said a word!”

“Yeah I know! And you're givin' me a headache—so just, calm down will ya'?”

Heyes sighed, snuggling into his coat even more. “If it's nothing bad then how come he sent Joe out to 'escort' me in to town?”

“He just wants to talk to ya'.”

“I go into town often enough. He doesn't have to summon me like I'm his pet dog.”

“He said he needed to talk to ya' right now,” Kid explained again. “It doesn't have to be something bad to be important.”

“I donno Kid,” Heyes sounded worried. “What if they want to send me back?”

“Why would they want to send ya' back?” Kid asked patiently. “You haven't broken any of the conditions of your parole—have ya'?”

“NO!”

Kid nodded, accepting that as truth. “Well then.....?”

“Yeah, but....what if....?”

“Heyes, if they had decided, just outa the blue, to send ya' back don't ya' think Sheriff Jacobs would have sent more than just Joe out to get ya'?”

“Maybe they're just trying to trick me—put me at my ease. Make me think there's nothing going on and then as soon as I walk into the sheriff's office—Wham! I'm back in handcuffs!”

“But why Heyes? Ya' haven't done nothin'.”

“Well yeah, but....”

“Look,” Kid had about had it. “if anybody tries to put ya' in handcuffs, I will personally throw away my amnesty and shoot ya' outa jail myself. How's that?”

“Well....” Heyes shrugged. “Promise?”

Kid laughed. “Yeah Heyes, I promise.”

 

The trip into town hadn't taken any longer than it usually does with a buckboard, but for some reason it felt like an eternity before they finally pulled the team up outside the sheriff's office and began to unstiffen their cold legs and climb down off the box. Joe tethered his horse at the hitching rail and then did the same for the team and the three men made their way into the office.

“Ahh! Mr. Heyes—and Mr. Curry, what ya' know.” Jacobs stood up from his desk and greeted the newcomers. “Have a seat boys. Thanks for going to get them Joe.”

“No problem Sheriff.”

“Help yourself to some coffee,” Jacobs suggested. “Warm yourself up before you continue your rounds. I know it's cold out there today.”

“Yeah, thanks Sheriff,” Joe headed over to the stove. “I think I will.”

“How about you fellas?” Jacobs asked. “Want some coffee?”

“No thanks Sheriff,” Jed answered him. “We kinda loaded up on coffee before we knew we were coming in here.”

Jacobs smiled. “Yeah, okay.” He sat down and looked over at Heyes, taking note of his slightly pale complexion and nervous stance. “Nothing to worry about Mr. Heyes,” he assured the parolee. “I just received a correspondence from your friend Warden Reece and I felt that it was important that we have a talk about it.” Then he nodded to Jed. “I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you decided to accompany your friend into town.” 

“Yeah. I hope ya' don't mind Sheriff.”

“Nope,” Jacobs assured him. “I think you'll be glad of this news as well.” He looked back to Heyes who was looking decidedly more relaxed, but still real glad that his partner was sitting there beside him. “You already know that Mr. Harris has been recaptured, of course.” Two heads nodded “Well, it was decided amongst the powers that be to return Mr. Harris to the Wyoming Prison, considering that he escaped from that institution and still owes the state a number of years on his sentence. Also, things were getting a little hot in Kansas and there really wasn't much of a doubt that Harris would not live to face trial if he were to remain there so he was shipped back home.” Jacobs paused here and looked from one partner to the other; both were looking back at him intently.   
“It would seem that there are a number of people who have an interest in Mr. Harris,” Jacobs continued. “Aside from the State of Wyoming wanting him back, it seems he was busy making himself known in Nebraska and Kansas as well. However, Wyoming had prior claim so there he is.”

“Yeah, that's good to know Sheriff,” Heyes acknowledged, feeling a lot more comfortable now. “I doubt he'll be getting out of that place again any time soon.”

“No, not likely,” Jacobs agreed. “Now, as to why I requested your presence here today Mr. Heyes; Warden Reece is planning on questioning Mr. Harris on his involvement in that prison break when you and the warden were taken hostage?”

Heyes once again paled slightly with the reminder of that incident. “Yes.”

“There is also some ambiguity surrounding the murder of Joe's uncle, Walter Morin who was the doctor out there at the prison.”

“Yes. That's right,” Heyes again confirmed.

“Well, Mr. Reece has requested your presence out at the prison since you were a witness to both of those incidents and that your inside knowledge of Mr. Harris might help to 'persuade' him to remember certain facts that up to this point seem to be eluding him.”

“Oh.” Heyes brightened up considerably. “Kenny wants me to be involved with the questioning?”

“Well....not officially...but just there to compare notes and make sure that Harris is being truthful with the answers he gives. And to substantiate what Warden Reece himself has to say about those episodes.”

Heyes grinned, a slight hint of his old larceny glinting in his dark eyes. Jacobs picked up on that right away and wondered if this was such a good idea. Jed just sat back and watched this exchange with growing interest. 

“I will also be joining you Mr. Heyes,” Jacobs informed him. “For one thing, the attacks on Miss Jordan happened in my jurisdiction and there are some question I myself would like to put to Mr. Harris. Also, I feel that it is important that I accompany you on this trip Mr. Heyes. I realize that you and Mr. Reece are friends and that he is well aware of your situation, but I feel a certain responsibility for you and I would hate to see you get sidetracked because of all this.”

“Oh, well thank you Sheriff,” Heyes smiled sweetly at him. Kid snorted, but kept it to himself. “I really don't think that would be necessary....”

“But I do,” Jacobs cut in. “And so does Sheriff Trevors.”

Heyes' smile dropped. “Oh.”

“Also, the Jordan family lawyer, Mr. Granger whom we are all quite familiar with...” Heyes and Kid nodded. “...will also be in attendance so make sure that everything stays legal and above board. Don't want to have any accusations of misconduct during the questioning—do we?”

Heyes grinned again but then quickly covered it up with a cough and a hand to his mouth. “Oh no, no of course not.”

“Uh huh,” Jacobs sounded sceptical. “Well, as you know the train to Wyoming doesn't leave until later this evening so you can carry on with your day, but be back here tonight, ready to go. Alright?”

“Yessir Sheriff,” Heyes agreed. “I'll look forward to it.” 

“Fine,” Jacobs stood up followed by the other two and they all shook hands. “Good day gentlemen. Stay outa trouble.”

“Yessir Sheriff,” Jed agreed.

“Sheriff, I'll see you tonight.”

 

“See Heyes,” said Jed as he clapped his partner on the back. “all that worryin' for nothin'. We just might get our little mystery solved here pretty soon.”

“Yeah, I guess you were right Kid,” Heyes agreed as they climbed back up onto the buckboard in preparation of heading over to the mercantile. “I guess it's time I stopped expecting the worst all the time. Especially with Sheriff Jacobs; he does seem to be an up right kinda fella.”

“Yeah,” Kid picked up the lines and clucked to the team. “I sure hope we get all this worked out soon. I'm kinda missing my girl, ya' know?”

Heyes smiled. “Yeah, I know Kid. We'll get her home to ya' soon.” Then he sighed deeply. “I miss Belle,” he admitted. “Yeah, it'll be nice to have the family all home again. That ranch house just doesn't seem the same with most of the joy elsewhere.”

The partners were quiet then for a while aside from Jed clucking to the team occasionally to keep them moving towards the industrial end of town. Soon they were at the big bay doors in back of the mercantile and were warming themselves up by throwing sacks of feed into the wagon bed.

“Do you need me to come with ya' tonight Heyes?” Jed finally asked between heaves. “I mean, for moral support and all that. I know going back to that prison probably won't be easy on ya'.”

“Yeah, I know. I was thinking about that,” Heyes admitted. “But I suppose you don't really need to come Kid, if you don't want to. I don't think Kenny would try to pull anything on me. And if Steven's going to be there....”

“That's kinda what I was thinking,” Jed agreed and then sighed with a self-conscious grin. “I guess I'm not as young as I used to be; all that train travellin' back and forth has plumb wore me out. I really wouldn't mind staying home, ya' know? Besides, something might come up—you might need someone here to handle things.”

Heyes grinned. “Uh huh. That's fine Kid. I'm sure you've made that trip so many times you could do it in your sleep.”

“You're right about that Heyes. You're right about that!”

 

Later that afternoon Jed drove Heyes into town again so that he wouldn't have to cover the expense of boarding Karma at the livery stable for the duration of his absence. He didn't really know how long he was going to be away for, so it didn't make any sense for him to ride in on horseback.   
They came into town a little early as Heyes had an appointment with David and Jed didn't mind the second trip in as it gave him a chance to stop over at the saloon for a beer or two before he had to get back while there was still light enough to drive by. If Heyes had time after his visit with David, he just might meet up with the Kid for a beer, before occupying himself in other ways until it was time to catch the train.  
Kid pulled up at the door to David's house and Heyes grabbed his satchel and stepped down out of the surrey. 

“Okay Kid, thanks,” he said. “Hopefully I'll see you later, but either way I'll send you a telegram when I'm heading home again. Hopefully this won't take too long.”

“Yeah, that's fine Heyes,” Kid nodded. “Give that bastard hell will ya'? I don't take kindly to him upsetting my marriage plans.”

Heyes snorted. “Yeah, I'm sure that's first on the agenda.”

“Well yeah! It is to me!” Then he grinned at his partner. “No, seriously Heyes, I hope ya' get the answers you're lookin' for.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Heyes knocked on the door to the Gibson residence and was surprised to see young Nathan presenting himself and greeting him with great enthusiasm.

“Hi Unca' Han!” came the enthusiastic greeting.

“Hello!” Heyes returned the greeting. “I'm here to see your papa.”

Nathan grinned and opened the door wider for Heyes to step inside. Then he galloped full speed down the hallway to David's office door, leaving Heyes to close the front door himself.

“Papa! Unca Han's here!” Little hands pounded on the door. “PAPA!”

“Yes! I heard you!” came the muffled response. “Show him in will you?”

“Yes Papa!” Galloping feet thudded their way back into the kitchen where Heyes was removing his coat, hat and gunbelt, making sure he placed the latter up out of reach of little boy hands. “Papa says to show you in.”

Heyes smiled. “Lead the way.”

“Hello Hannibal,” David greeted his friend as he came into the office. “Have a seat.”

“Can I stay Papa?”

“No, you cannot.”

“Awwww!”

“You know you can't stay in here when I'm with a patient.”

“But is Unca Han!” Nathan protested. “He's not a patient!”

“When Uncle Hannibal is in this room, then he is a patient,” David explained this fine line yet again to his son. “If he has time later then he can sit in the kitchen with you for a visit, alright?”

Disappointed eyes were enhanced by a pout. “Awight.”

“You go play in your room for now,” David told him. “Momma will be home soon.”

Nathan eyes lit up then and he grinned in anticipation. “Yeah! Momma and Aunt Randa'--dinner!”

“Yes,” David grinned. “Aunt Miranda is coming for dinner. Off you go.”

Nathan closed the office door behind him and he could be heard galloping further down the hallway and into his bedroom. It seemed that boy didn't go anywhere at a walk—everything was full speed ahead. 

David smiled at Hannibal but then frowned at his friends slightly worried expression. “What's wrong?”

At the sound of Miranda's name Heyes had instantly felt a knot in his gut and a slight shiver went through him. “Miranda is going to be here?”

“Yes, but later,” David assured him. “I expect you'll be gone before they get home.”

“Oh.”

Then David frowned even more as he noted Heyes' expression change from worried to disappointed.  
“Unless you want to see her,” he commented cautiously.

Brown eyes met brown. Heyes hesitated.

“Do you want to see her?” David asked him and was met with more silence. “Hannibal...?”  
“No, but I guess I owe her that, huh?” Heyes mumbled. “At the very least.”   
“I agree,” David concurred as he sat down opposite his friend. “She covers it well, but I know she's disappointed.”  
“Yes, I never wanted to hurt her,” Heyes mumbled. “It’s complicated. I love Abigail and we have a child together. I can’t just walk away from that without trying to make a go of it. I guess there’s just too much history.”   
David nodded and commented. “We all assumed you were back with Abigail. We heard she’d returned to the ranch.”   
“Oh! Yes.” Heyes brightened up and smiled. “She's back and we are giving things another chance.” Then his smiled turned into a grin. “She has promised me that when all this other stuff is settled that she will arrange for me to meet my daughter.”   
“Good!” David smiled. “And of course, if you two do decide to stay together then it only stands to reason that you would meet your daughter, and come to know her as such.”   
“Yes! A chance to be a real family.” Heyes grinned some more but there was still a hint of something else in his eyes.  
David scrutinized him for a moment. “Hannibal?”   
“Hmm?”   
“Are you disappointed?”   
Heyes' eyes took on a faraway look. “I donno,” he said quietly. “I'm kinda surprised at that, I mean, I'm really happy that Abi and we are trying to work things out. I love her—very much.”  
“But.....”  
Heyes felt a bit irritated that David was pushing, but curious as well as to why his feelings were so contradictory right now.  
“But....” Heyes repeated, hoping the words would just come to him. Nothing came forth.  
David sighed. “Hannibal, I know you know what you're thinking. I'm not here to judge you. What are you feeling?”  
Heyes sat quietly for a moment, his face a picture of concentration—and frustration.  
Heyes' eyes took on a faraway look. “I wish sometimes that there was two of me.”  
“Two of you?” David sounded a little confused.   
“Yeah. I'm kinda surprised that I met someone like Randa, at all. I mean, I'm really happy that Abi and I are trying to work things out. I love her—very much but if Abi hadn’t showed up, who knows where it would have headed with Randa?”   
“I think we can all guess,” David murmured.   
“I wasn’t playing games with her, David. I wouldn’t do that. I never thought I’d see Abi again, I just have to work things out with her. I’m sorry to lose Randa, and I’m even sorrier for hurting her, but I have to do this.” The two men sat quietly for a moment and then Heyes' eyes lost their distant look and he focused back onto David again. “When I'm with Abi, she brings back all the good times we had. I love her so much and I'm so looking forward to the three of us being a real family. It's what I want, but then whenever I run into Miranda it's like a knife goes through my heart. I see the pain that I've caused her, and I just want to take her into my arms and make it better.” Heyes sighed and David waited. “If there were two of me, then I wouldn't have to choose. I wouldn't have to hurt one in order to be with the other. I wouldn't have to forfeit either possible future; I could love them both.”   
David smiled. “Wouldn't that solve a lot of problems,” he conjectured. “Why chose one path when you can take both?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Unfortunately in matters of the heart the only honourable thing to do is chose.”  
Heyes slumped. “I know!” The he brightened and smiled, his eyes shining. “And I've chosen Abi! I know she's the one I want to be with. But then I see Miranda and she's hurting...I do care about her David. I'm so sorry.”  
“Oh affairs of the heart!” David announced rather dramatically. “Not always easy.” He turned serious again and decided to bring forth a supposition, knowing that he might get snarked at, but wanting to present it as a thought anyways. “What if you and Abi did not have a child?” he asked gently. “What if there wasn't that one truth binding you together?”  
Heyes smiled. “Abi says she doesn't deal with hypotheticals. We do have a child, so why even consider the alternative?”  
“Because considering the alternative might help you to understand your motivations here,” David explained. “I realize you can't deny the facts, but simply consider; is it Abi you're in love with or the fact that she is the mother of your child and you want to be part of a real family?”  
Heyes sat silently. He wasn't sure if he should be angry at that suggestion or simply amused. Then he felt afraid to the point where he didn't even want to look too closely at that possibility. He loved Abi; he knew he did! He cleared his throat. “I dreamed of Abi every night in prison, it's not just about our daughter. I hate what's happened here. I met a wonderful woman, and I hurt her.” He shook his head. “The most stupid thing is both of them could be real friends. They're both strong, and clever, and loyal—and they both did whatever they could to make room for the other. I don't want Randa to hate me; she's too special for that.”  
“She is, very special.” They sat quietly for a moment, both in their own thoughts. “Well!” David slapped his thighs and stood up. “Let's get on with your exam, shall we?”  
Heyes came up out of his stupor. “Oh, yeah.” And he absently began to pull off his sweater, shirt and henley all in one.  
David came around behind him and instantly began probing his shoulders. Heyes tightened and flinched a little bit.  
“Just relax, and breathe.”  
“Yeah yeah.”  
David smiled. “How long has it been since this injury?”  
“That's easy,” Heyes answered. “It was around Christmas time, so two years.”  
“Hmm.” David continued to apply pressure to certain points on Heyes' back and shoulders. Then he came around in front and sat down facing his patient. He picked up Heyes' right hand and pulled the arm towards him and applied pressure all up and down the inside of the arm and into the shoulder joint. Then he repeated this exam with the other arm. Heyes tightened a little bit throughout, but not excessively. Finally David finished and sitting back, he smiled. “That's really feeling good Hannibal,” he said. “You've kept up the stretching and I take it that you're not having any problems with mobility?”  
“No,” Heyes agreed. “It feels fine actually. Occasionally I'll get a twinge, but for the most part it's as if nothing had ever happened.”  
“Good! You're still too skinny though.”  
Heyes slumped and groaned. “Are you never going to be satisfied?”  
“Nope,” David grinned. “I'm always going to find something to pester you about—it'll keep you honest!”  
“You're as bad as the Kid! You're both a pair of mother hens!”  
“Good! I'm glad he keeps after you. Nice to know I taught him something! Now, how are those nightmares doing?”  
Heyes brightened up and grinned. “I think we're beating them David! I haven't had a really bad one for almost a week now.”  
“Good!” David was genuinely pleased. “Anything specific that you can attribute that to?”  
“Yeah, Abi telling me to ask the Doc during the nightmare to show me what he wanted me to see,” Heyes explained. “That was the beginning of it. And then....”  
“What?”  
“Then....Doc came to me in another dream and said that I was on the right track now so he wouldn't be haunting me so much anymore.” Heyes sat quietly, contemplating his friend. “Do you believe in ghosts, David?”  
“Eww,” David hadn't expected that question. “I don't think so. I think this is just the way your mind has been dealing with all these things. You were close to Dr. Morin and the details of his murder have been laying heavily on you. Now that you're apparently getting closer to finding out what is going on with that, your mind is beginning to settle again, so the nightmares are easing off.”  
Heavy sigh. “They just seem so real,” Heyes insisted. “Like I'm really there and talking with him.”  
“The mind is very powerful,” David explained. “We really don't have any idea of its full potential. It can convince us to believe anything we want to believe. Still, if you believe that the ghost of your friend is coming to you and you're having conversations with him, who am I to say you're wrong?”  
Heyes grinned again. “You sit on the fence like a real master.”  
“All it takes is a lot of practice.” David turned to his desk then and jotted down a few points on Heyes' chart. “So—your nightmares are easing off, your collar bone has healed nicely and your shoulders are also coming along very well. We've discussed your friend the ghost and your love life—ahh, hmmm....” David hesitated. “Perhaps I shouldn't ask....”  
“What?” Heyes was incredulous. “You not ask a personal question David?”  
“Yes, well...just keep in mind that it's purely for medical reasons. I wouldn't dream of prying....”  
“No, of course you wouldn't!” Heyes teased him. “You don't need to dream about it—you just do it!”  
“Yes, well...” David repeated. “It's just about your 'other' problem. You and Abi are apparently together again. Have you tried...?”  
Heyes beamed. “Yes, we did.”  
David nodded. “I take it from your response that everything went well?”  
“Yes! It was great! She's great. She just seemed to know how to help me through it.”  
“As I told you before,” David reminded him. “you just needed to be with someone you know and are comfortable with. Not feeling defensive, or needing to protect yourself. Speaking of protection...is she using anything?”  
Heyes' brow creased in confusion. “Using anything? What do you mean?”  
“Protection,” David repeated. “from pregnancy.”  
“Oh. I donno,” Heyes shrugged, looking a little self-conscious. “I always leave that up to the woman to take care of. I guess I never even really thought....”  
“After two illegitimate children Hannibal?” David pointed out. “If you're going to indulge in pre-marital sex, don't you think you should think about it?”  
Heyes shifted uncomfortably. David always did find a way to push him into new depths. “I could talk to Abi about that, I suppose. See if she knows of anything.” Heyes still didn't feel too comfortable with this topic. These were women's issues after all, couldn't they just be left with the women?  
David nodded. “Good idea. And from what I know of Mrs. Stewert, I expect she is well aware of her options. I just think that you should be aware of them too. Ah, but don't tell anyone else that I mentioned that to you.”  
“Not that I would; it is rather personal,” Heyes commented dryly. “But why not?”  
“It's illegal,” David admitted. “If the wrong people found out that I was giving advice on contraception I could lose my licence and possibly even spend six months in prison.”  
Heyes' jaw dropped, then he grinned; a mischievous glint coming into his eye. David groaned, knowing he had walked right into that one.  
“I knew I could make an outlaw outa you Doc; all it took was the right motivation!” Heyes grinned even more. “We could start up a new gang. You could be our doctor—it'd be kinda handy having a doctor in the gang. Trish could help out in the kitchen. Beth could be our bookkeeper! Maybe we would actually save some of the money we steal this time. Yeah; this could work.”  
David sat patiently, listening to this recital with a rather scrupulous expression on his face. Finally Heyes wound it down and shook his head. “No?”  
“No.”  
“Hmm, I suppose the timings not quite right.”  
“Yeah,” David mumbled, then took control again. “Is there anything else we need to discuss?”  
“No, I don't think so,” Heyes really didn't want to discuss anything else. “I'm going out of town for a few days. Going to see Kenny. The man we think assaulted Beth—among other things has been re-captured and returned to the prison. Kenny wants me there to help with questioning him.”  
“Yes, I'd heard that,” David admitted. “Take it easy out there Hannibal. Going back to the prison so soon after your release may start things up again.”  
“You mean like the nightmares?”  
“Yes.”  
“I was kinda hoping the opposite might happen,” Heyes admitted. “That going back to the prison and getting to the bottom of this little mystery would help to put the nightmares to rest—once and for all!”  
“I'm sure that eventually it will,” David agreed. “Just at first, you may find your emotions getting stirred up again. Take things easy, is all I'm saying. And don't be too concerned if your nightmares come back for a bit. It'll be temporary. Things are moving ahead quite nicely.”  
“Good!” Heyes was happy with that diagnosis and stood up in preparation of leaving.  
Then they heard the front door opening and the sound of women's voices drifted back to them. They heard the bedroom door open and little feet galloping down the hallway, past the office door.  
“Momma! Aunt Randa! What you get me!?”  
Heyes was instantly alarmed and the two men locked eyes.  
“Go out the back way,” David suggested.  
“No,” Heyes shook his head. “She deserves better than that. I really should speak with her.”  
David nodded and then both men left the office and made their way into the kitchen. Miranda looked up and met Heyes' eyes, but then she instantly looked away, the blood draining from her face. And Heyes felt it again; that knife through his heart. She was such a fine woman and it hurt him that he'd hurt her  
Tricia smiled, trying to ease the tension that was so obvious to everyone, even Nathan had stopped nattering on about what was for dinner.  
“Hannibal! How nice to see you,” Trich greeted him. “Are you staying?”  
Heyes glanced over at Miranda for an instant. “No, I planned on meeting up with the Kid for a drink before he headed back home,” Heyes admitted. “Although...” and here he looked directly at Randa. “...I was hoping to have a few words with you before I left. I'll be catching the evening train to Wyoming and I just thought....”  
“Oh,” Miranda seemed hesitant, feeling the need to bide for time. “I have a few things that need doing..”  
“Why don't you go meet up with Jed and then come back here for supper?” Trich offered. “You're welcome to stay here until your train leaves. Goodness knows Jed did often enough!”  
Heyes smiled. “Alright,” he agreed. Then he looked over to Miranda again. “If that's alright with you.”  
Miranda smiled, regaining her composure after seeing him so unexpectedly. “Yes,” she assured him with a smile. “That would be fine.”  
“Good,” Heyes smiled, relieved that she agreed to see him. “I'll try to be back here around 5:00.”  
“That would be perfect,” Tricia agreed. “Say 'hello' to Jed.”  
“I will. Ladies—David.” Heyes said his goodbyes and left.  
Silence settled over the kitchen for a moment. Then everyone gave a big sigh of relief.  
“Did you talk him into that David?” Tricia asked her meddling husband.  
“NO!” David was almost insulted, except that he knew there was usually some truth to that statement. “This was all Hannibal's idea.” Then he looked to his cousin. “He really does want to talk with you Miranda.”  
Miranda smiled and nodded. “That's fine. I think it would be good to clear the air a little bit.”  
Heyes trotted through the snow over towards the saloon and entered into that establishment with mixed feelings of relief and anxiety. Hopefully a beer with his friend would help to clarify things and calm him down a little bit. He stopped upon entering the saloon and took a quick look around. As expected, Jed was over by the bar already getting started on his share of the hops.   
Heyes grinned and headed over. “Hey Partner!” He greeted his cousin and gave him a jovial slap on the back.  
Kid looked at him suspiciously. “Okay Heyes, what's goin' on?”  
“Why does something have to be going on?”  
“It's only been a little over an hour since I last saw ya'. What's with the huge greeting?”  
“I'm just glad to see ya'. What's wrong with that?”   
Bill approached him then, an eyebrow asking the question. Heyes nodded at him, holding up one finger. Bill disappeared to get him his beer.  
“With you? Everything,” Kid answered his question. “What's up.”  
Bill plunked the beer down in front of Heyes and he took a big time consuming gulp. Kid waited patiently. Heyes replenished himself and then set the beer down with a rather contemplative look on his face.  
“I saw Randa over at David's place.”  
“Oh,” Kid commented quietly. “How did that go?”  
Heyes nodded. “Okay,” he said. “I told her I wanted to talk with her about all this stuff.”  
“Yeah? Does she want to talk with you?”  
Heyes took another gulp of beer and then nodded. “Yeah, she's seems agreeable to that.”  
“What are you going to tell her?”  
“Everything.”  
“Everything?”  
Heyes nodded. “I think she has the right to know.”  
“Yeah, well. I suppose,” Kid sounded a little sceptical. “You gonna see her before ya' leave town?”  
“Yeah,” Heyes informed him. “I'm going over there for dinner since I have to wait for the train anyways. Then Miranda and I can talk before I leave.”  
Jed took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. “Okay Heyes,” he supported his cousin. “This seems to be your time for tying up loose ends. I hope it goes well.”  
“Yeah,” Heyes agreed reflectively. “Me too.”  
Dinner over at the Gibson's was slightly strained but still pleasant enough. Heyes spent much of the time playing with Nathan and then carrying on the conversation with him throughout the meal. When talk did move on to more adult subjects, Heyes discussed what was happening at the prison and his hopes for achieving some clarity now on these odd strings of events that seemed to be somehow connected.  
“So you really think Harris is behind all of what has been going on?” Tricia asked incredulously. “Your friend's murder, the assaults on you and that guard during the prison break and the assaults on Beth?”  
“Hmm no,” Heyes mumbled as he swallowed a mouthful. “He's a brutal man, but he's not smart enough to be behind those things. I just believe that he is connected to them—someone else is pulling the strings. I'm hoping that through questioning him we will be able to find out who and more importantly; why.”  
“Yes,” Tricia agreed. “I mean, what possible connection could Beth have to those other things that happened? It doesn't make sense.”  
“No it doesn't,” Heyes agreed. “But the more you dig, the more you find out. And nobody's better at digging than Abi.” Then he sent a quick glance over to Miranda, instantly regretting mentioning her name. “Sorry,” he said to her.  
Miranda smiled and gave a small shake of her head. “That's alright. I realize that Abi is a part of this investigation. If she can help to solve it then all the better that she's involved. I think we'd all like to see Beth come home again.” Then she smiled, mischievously. “There's a wedding in the works, can't keep putting that off forever!”  
Everyone laughed at that, Miranda's comment lightening the mood.  
“Poor Jed,” Tricia commented. “He has been so patient.”  
Dinner finally started to wind down and everyone helped to clear away the dishes. Tricia put coffee on and then once everyone was settled with a cup, David took Nathan down to his room to read him a bedtime story and Tricia announced that she had a letter to write that evening and disappeared into the sitting room. Heyes and Miranda found themselves sitting alone at the kitchen table, nursing their coffees, neither of them not quite sure where to begin.  
“Randa...” Heyes began.  
“I heard.” Randa kept her head high, but there was real fragility in her tone. “Mrs. Stewart is back.”  
“Yes, she is. I want to explain. I never meant to hurt you. As you know I’m leaving town for a few days, so I really wanted to speak with you before I do.”   
Randa nodded. “Yes, I was afraid this would happen.” She sighed heavily and sat at the table, rolling her handkerchief through her fingers. “You chose her. I suppose it’s logical if you have history.”  
He shifted his chair a little closer to the table, reaching out a hand to take hers, “Randa, I do love you, you know.”  
She let out a strangled cry, muffling it down with her handkerchief before composing herself. “Oh, yes?”  
“Yes, Randa. I really do.” Heyes leaned forward fixing her with emotional dark eyes. “I expected nothing when I came here, and I met a wonderful, kind, beautiful woman. She reached out to me in compassion, asking for nothing in return – and I hurt her. I’ll never be sorrier for anything as long as I live.”  
She withdrew her hand from his and tugged at the lace of her handkerchief. Heyes sighed deeply; this was not going to be easy.  
“I have something else to tell you that I feel you have the right to know,” he began quietly. “ Oh dear! Abi doesn't want the whole town to know, but it seems to be growing into the worst kept secret since the governor offered us amnesty.”  
Miranda sent him a questioning look. Heyes hesitated. “What is it?” she asked him.  
“I'm almost scared to tell you,” he admitted with a self-deprecating smile. “I'm afraid you'll think me an even worse cad than you do already. That you'll push me away as a shameful lout and not even want to know me on any level.”  
Miranda smiled, almost teasing him. “You mean you've done worse than rob banks and crack safes and con people into giving you their money?”  
Heyes groaned. “Well, when you put it like that....” He smiled but then took her hand again and his expression sobered. “As you know, Abi and I have a lot of history. We also have a child together.”   
Randa gave a gasp and he felt the emotional shock go through her. “A child!? You mean you and Abigail are married!?”  
Heyes dropped his eyes and shook his head. “No. We never married.”  
Silence settled over the table as Miranda tried to take all of this in.  
“I was going to tell you, but it never seemed to be the right time,” Heyes continued softly. “We have a daughter, she’s ten now.”  
Randa’s blue eyes widened. “So when she talked about her husband who died – she was talking about you?”  
He shook his head. “No, she was a widow when I met her. But using her married name, and telling people that our daughter is actually his, saves Anya from being seen as illegitimate. You know what that can do to a child.”  
Randa nodded. “Anya? What a lovely name.”  
“It was my mother’s name. We didn’t part because we were wrong for one another, Randa, we parted because our eldest daughter was murdered. Anya was our second child.” His voice rasped with emotion. “He was aiming for me, Randa, and he hit Becky. That’s why Abi wouldn’t let me near her, or Anya, not because we were wrong together. She was protecting our daughter.”  
“Oh!” Randa stood and wandered aimlessly over to the range. She poured herself another cup of coffee absentmindedly. “I don’t know what to say. ‘I’m sorry’ just doesn’t seem strong enough. That’s terrible! Abigail clearly never stopped loving you.”  
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Heyes stood and walked over to her. “It’s timing. I have a lot of unfinished business with Abi,” he stretched out an arm and gently turned her towards him. “You and I just never had the time to build that together.” He looked deeply into her eyes and smiled. “There was so much promise there... so much to hope for. You have no idea the difference that made to me. For so long all I had in my life was time, and that was running out fast. Hope was an impossible dream in there.”   
“But it can’t compete with history and a family,” she murmured.  
“It wasn’t a competition,” he gently stroked her face. “There’s nobody to hold a candle to you. I have a very hard time letting people love me. I’m damaged and messed-up, Randa. There are still things I have to work through. I thought I’d forgotten her... but I guess I forgot to.”  
She dropped her head. “Do you remember when I told you about how much I loved my late husband?”  
“Yes.”  
“Your old love has come back. I know what I’d do if William walked through that door,” she turned compassionate eyes up to him and smiled. “You’ve behaved honourably, Hannibal. Some men would lead women on. You’ve been honest, at a time when you’ve been under a lot of strain. I truly respect you for that, and I wish you nothing but the best.”  
Heyes gave a groan. “See? There you go again. Do you know how hard it is to walk away from a woman like you?”  
“Torture, I hope?” Randa desperately hoped that her forced chuckle covered the sound of her soul shattering on the floorboards around her like shards of glass. “And I hope that Abi will feel that I will welcome her as a friend. She has also done nothing she should be ashamed of. It’s bad timing, as you say. Maybe in another life, huh?”  
Heyes tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear. “Another life? It’s a date.” He turned away from her, shaking his head ruefully. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I would never have started anything if I’d thought for a moment there’d be anything with Abi, or any other woman for that matter.”  
“That I certainly do believe.” She patted his arm and smiled at him. “I hope this doesn’t mean we can’t be friends. I am very fond of you, and we see the Jordans all the time.”  
“That’s what I hoped too,” Heyes watched as she took a sip from her coffee cup. “It’ll be hard, but... it’s something,” he shrugged, hopelessly. “I don’t want to lose you.”  
“Me neither. I’m glad we’ve sorted this out.” She went back to the table to sit down again. “I truly do care for you Hannibal and I wish you all the best. Can you stay a little longer?”  
Heyes shook his head. “I have to get on, the train will be leaving soon.” He followed her out into the hallway and donned his gun belt and coat before he put his hand on the front door knob, his heart breaking at the veiled pain in her eyes. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry, Randa.” He reached out and pulled her to him in a deep, wistful kiss.   
She pulled back, smiling into his eyes. “I know you are. We both are, but it is, what it is.” She gently pushed him away with a soft hand on each shoulder. “In another life, Hannibal.”  
“Yes, another life,” he gave a heavy sigh and walked out into the street.   
She watched him go before she closed the door and leaned on it with her back against it, tears streaming down her face.   
“Oh, my poor darling!” Tricia bustled down the hallway to her cousin. “It’s true? Abi’s come back?”  
“They have a child, Tricia,” Randa sobbed, “her daughter is his.”  
“No!” Tricia cast accusing eyes at her husband. “Did you know about this?”  
David gave a silent shrug, neither confirming or denying, and walked back into his office. Some things were simply not worth arguing about.  
Tricia wrapped a comforting arm around her cousin. “Come with me. You’re staying here tonight, and I won’t hear a word against that. You need family right now.”

Late that evening, Heyes and Jacobs settled into their seats on the north bound train and prepared for a long night of travel. Right from the start Heyes felt uneasy; he had known even before David had pointed it out that this trip was going to be difficult. The last time he had been on this train had been to also go visit with Kenny, but this was an entirely different situation; this time he was actually going all the way back to the prison.  
Most of the other passenger were sleeping, or at least trying to sleep as the sheriff and his charge sat and waited for the train to get under way. Heyes had the window seat and again sat looking at his reflection in the glass and feeling that odd shiver of deja vu washing over him. Sitting in the window seat with a lawman sitting beside him, looking into his own dark eyes staring back at him.  
He saw the same man there as he had five years ago; the same man, but again different somehow. Not really much older—no, that wasn't it. Wiser? Perhaps. Calmer—definitely. A little nervous and uneasy, yes but not the fear that had squeezed at his throat. And not that weariness he had felt; that bone deep, all encompassing exhaustion that had pulled him away from the inquisitive gaze of a playful boy and sent him into a disparaging, spiralling self-examination.   
They heard the train's whistle sound off in the night and then the car jolted into motion as they began to pull out of the depot. Heyes sighed and turned away from the window then; there was nothing to see out there, just cold and snow and he'd seen enough of that.  
“I'm going to try and get some sleep,” Jacobs announced. “I might suggest that you do the same if we're going to be of any use tomorrow.”  
“Yeah I will,” Heyes agreed. “I think I'm going to read for awhile though, if the lamp light won't bother you.”  
“No that's fine. Go ahead,” Jacobs assured him as he crossed his arms and settled deeper into the seat. “Fell asleep enough times over at the jailhouse with the lights burning.”

Heyes smiled over at him and then reached into his satchel and pulled out a book of short stories that he had been reading on and off whenever he had the time. Just as in the prison, he found reading to be a good way to relax his mind and help him to fall asleep and tonight he figured he would need some help in that endeavour.  
He opened up the book where he had previously left off and disappeared into the story. Five hours later he woke up to near darkness. Someone had come by and turned down the lamp and settled a blanket over him while he'd slept. Again, he thought fleetingly that his instincts must be slipping if he had allowed that to happen and not be awakened by it.  
The train was still chugging its way towards Laramie and though the snow outside was throwing up a hint of reflected light, the dawn had not yet put in an appearance. Heyes glanced over at his companion to find him still asleep and he sighed with frustrated boredom. He considered going back to the book that was still splayed open upon his lap but decided not to as he was still half asleep and wasn't much in the mood for reading. He looked out the window again and then his eyes closed and the light of dawn awoke him an hour later.  
The few other passengers in the car were also beginning to stir and Heyes yawned and stretched as best he could in the cramped quarters. The seat beside him was empty and he wondered briefly where Jacobs had gotten to, but then when his own morning necessity started making demands, he no longer wondered. Sure enough, within a couple of minutes Jacobs returned and greeted him.  
“'Mornin' Heyes,” he mumbled with a stifled yawn. “The privy's clear right now if you want to pop in there.”  
“Yup, think I will,” Heyes agreed and standing up he slipped past the sheriff and headed to the private room at the rear of the car.  
When he got back to the seats, Jacobs had procured two cups of coffee and handed one over to him as soon as he got settled back into his seat.  
“Should be in Laramie soon,” Jacobs announced. “I figure we can get breakfast there, then get a couple of rooms at the hotel and get cleaned up before we head to the prison. The warden is expecting us later this morning, so we have some time.”  
“Hmm,” Heyes nodded as he took an appreciative sip of coffee. “When will Steven be there?”  
“Wouldn't be surprised if he's there already,” Jacobs informed him. “He's just as eager to get to the bottom of this as we are.”  
“I find that hard to believe,” Heyes countered. “He's not the one getting nightmares.”  
“We all have our motivations,” Jacobs pointed out. “So long as we're all on the same page, I suppose that's all that matters.”  
Heyes nodded and went back to staring out the window; the landscape was beginning to look very familiar again. The old haunts were still out there with so much of Wyoming looking like any other part of the state until you really got to know it. The landscape just blended from one grove of scrub brush to another until all landmarks looked the same. But Heyes could tell the difference; he always seemed to know exactly where he was in this state. It was home to him, more than Kansas had ever been home and for now, more than Colorado was home.  
But it was a haunted landscape now and he wondered if he would ever be able to come here and feel comfortable again. It was still home, but it was a broken home; full of pain and fear and loneliness and he couldn't look upon the familiar terrain without a trace of sadness and loss.  
The train pulled into the station at Laramie and some of the passengers, including Heyes and Jacobs disembarked and made their way over to the hotel. There was a bit of a line up to get rooms booked, with everyone arriving at the same time but still the clerk was accustomed to the hustle and bustle that train arrival often caused and he got through the throng quite quickly.  
“Ah, Mr. Jacobs,” the clerk smiled up at the lawman. “Yes, we got your reservations. Two rooms beside one another, a single bed in each.”  
“That's right,” Jacobs confirmed. “We're going to go get some breakfast so if you could have someone take our bags up to our rooms that would be appreciated.”  
“Certainly sir,” the clerk nodded as Jacobs signed the register and then slid it over to Heyes to sign.  
“Mr. Jacobs, you will be in room 310, and Mr....” the clerk swivelled the register around to read Heyes' name. “....Oh! Mr. Heyes, of course. Sorry, I didn't recognize you with hair.” Then he smiled a little apolitically, realizing that he had probably made a mistake in etiquette. “Sorry. Ah, you'll be in room 312, alright.”  
“Ah, no!” Heyes stated quite blatantly. “No, that's not alright.”  
Both the sheriff and the clerk frowned and sent the third man a questioning look. Heyes swallowed, looking a little uncomfortable and then smiled an apology himself.  
“Ah, 312 was my cell number,” he explained to the sheriff. “I know it's silly, but I'd rather not....”  
“Oh! No no,” Jacobs assured him. “No I can understand you not wanting that room. We can switch. You take 310 and I'll take 312—how's that?”  
Heyes smiled with relief. “Yeah, that'd be fine.”  
Jacobs nodded over to the clerk who quickly switched the room numbers around on the register and then smiled back at the two gentlemen.  
“There we go, all taken care of,” the clerk assured him. “I'll make sure your bags are put in the appropriate rooms. There's a very nice cafe just across the street—they serve a fine breakfast.”  
“Thank you,” Jacobs told him and they turned and headed back outside.  
Heyes was about to step off the boardwalk and head over to the familiar cafe when Jacobs grabbed him by the arm and swung him back around to stay on their side of the street. Then he started off at a walk, bringing Heyes along with him.  
“Where are we going?” Heyes asked him, suddenly feeling a little anxious; he still had a hard time handling the unexpected—especially where a lawman was concerned.  
“Just gotta let Sheriff McPherson know we're in town.”  
“But why?” asked Heyes, hoping to avoid that particular gentleman. “I'm with you!”  
“Doesn't matter,” Jacobs informed him. “You still need to sign in with the local law. C'mon, it won't take but a minute.”  
Heyes groaned but meekly followed along in the sheriff's wake. When he thought about it, he supposed it made sense; this wasn't Jacobs' town after all. They carried on down the street for a block, turned the corner towards the familiar part of the town square and then entered into the sheriff's office. McPherson was sitting behind his desk as usual and glanced up from his paperwork and morning coffee as the two men entered his domain.  
“Ahh,” he commented. “back again, are ya'?” Then he opened the drawer of his desk and pulled out the ledger and flipped it open.  
“Howdy Sheriff!” Heyes greeted him with a big smile. “How are you this morning?”  
“Hmm,” McPherson wasn't impressed. “Sheriff Jacobs?”  
“That's right,” Jacobs extended his hand and the two law officers shook. “I assume you know why we're in town?”  
“Oh yeah,” McPherson informed him. “It's about all anybody can talk about these days. Doc Morin was a popular man. If that bastard, Harris can shed some light on what really happened that day, all the better.” Then he sent a scrutinizing look over to Heyes. “But what the hell do they need you here for is what I don't understand.”  
Heyes opened his mouth to answer but Sheriff Jacobs beat him to it.  
“Mr. Heyes was a witness to a number of the events that Mr. Harris is going to be questioned about,” the visiting sheriff informed the local one. “He is here to help collaborate what Mr. Harris offers and perhaps to, shall we say; encourage him to remember certain details which may slip the inmate's mind.”   
“Uh huh,” was McPherson's sceptical response. “Well, far be it from me....just sign in Mr. Heyes.”  
Heyes smiled and taking the offered pen, dipped it in the ink well and bent to sign the ledger. He had to flip over one more page to find an empty place; apparently there had been a few inmates signing out of this place of late. Heyes did a quick scan of some of the names to see if there were any that he recognized and a couple did jump out at him. Johnston had been released about a week ago, oh! And Ames! Hmm, hopefully he wasn't going to track down his old prison buddy, Kyle and start trouble. That was something Kyle did not need.  
Oh well. Heyes signed his name with the date and straightened up to smile back at the sheriff again.  
“Fine,” said McPherson. “How long to you expect to be in town?”  
“Oh, no more than a couple of days, I hope,” Heyes answered him.  
“Uh huh. Well, just make sure ya' sign out before ya' leave.”  
“Yessir Sheriff,” Heyes grinned even more.  
McPherson sighed. Hannibal Heyes was known for his cockiness, obviously prison hadn't changed him that much.  
The two sheriff's said their good-byes and then Heyes and Jacobs made their way back out to the street and over towards the cafe for a much anticipated breakfast.  
“Hannibal!!” came the enthusiastic greeting from the waitress. “My goodness son! How're ya' doin'!?”  
Heyes grinned and actually stood up to give the waitress a kiss on the cheek. “Hello Lisa, good to see you again.”  
“Oh my! You little flirt!” she teased him, but ginning with pleasure anyways. “You sure are lookin' fine! Still a little on the skinny side, but you're gettin' there!” Then she leaned in and added in a conspiratorial whisper... “Ya' know the man sittin' across from ya' here is wearin' a tin badge on his vest. Ya' know that don't ya'?”  
Heyes chuckled and then tried hard not to laugh out loud at Jacobs' rather disconcerting look that had settled onto his face.  
“Yeah, I know Lisa,” he assured her. “Sheriff Jacobs, this is Lisa. She's a friend.”  
Jacobs stood up and tipped his hat to her. “Ma'am.”  
Lisa smiled and gave him a pat on the arm. “Howdy Sheriff,” she greeted him. “Don't you mind me none, I'm just teasin'! You can ask Hannibal here, he'll tell ya'; I'm always just teasin'.”  
Jacobs sat back down again with a look across the table to Heyes, but Heyes just smiled.  
“You fellas want coffee?” Lisa asked needlessly.  
“Oh yes!”  
“Fine. You know what ya' want to eat?”  
“Steak and eggs,” Heyes announced without missing a beat. “Medium and sunny side up.”  
Lisa grinned. “I had a feelin' you'd be orderin' that! How about you handsome?”  
“Sounds good to me,” Jacobs agreed. “I'll have the same.”  
“Mighty fine! I'll be right back with your coffee's.”  
And off she went to place their order. Jacobs chuckled and shook his head.   
“She's a real kick in the ass, ain't she,” he commented.  
Heyes grinned. “Yup. She's the main reason Jed and I come back to this cafe whenever we're in town. She's just so entertaining. The food's pretty good too.”  
Lisa showed up then with a tray full of coffee cups and utensils.  
“Here ya' go fellas—good strong coffee.” She smiled and have Heyes a pat on the shoulder. “So where's that gorgeous blue eyed partner of yours?” she asked him. “I ain't seen Jed in ages! He not come with ya' this trip?”  
“No, not this time,” Heyes informed her. “He's kinda busy back home.”  
“Oh, that's a shame. You say 'hello' to him for me, okay?”  
“Sure Lisa.”  
“Say; wasn't he gettin' married this past summer?”  
“Ah, yeah but something came up and they had to postpone it.”  
“Oh, that's a shame,” Lisa repeated, but this time with a bit more feeling. “Nothin' too serious I hope.”  
“No no,” Heyes assured her. “Just postponed, not cancelled or anything. It's gonna happen.”  
“Well I certainly hope so,” Lisa stated. “Jed'll make a fine catch of a husband.”  
Heyes smiled again as Lisa took herself off to tend to her other customers. Ten minutes later, steaks and more coffee showed up at the table and both men settled into a fine breakfast. All was good in the world.  
Forty-five minutes later the two men returned to their respective hotel rooms in order to tidy up before heading to the prison. Heyes had a hard time deciding just what exactly he was feeling. He stood in front of the mirror with his shirt off and shaving cream covering the lower half of his face. He carefully began to shave his stubble with the straight edge, scraping away the remnants of a night on the train and an awkward sleep.  
He finished shaving most of his face and dipped the blade into the basin of water to clean it off. Then he brought the utensil up again to scrape away the cream and hair from his throat and a light of remembrance came into his dark eyes; a light of sadness. So many memories came flooding back, so much hurt. He paused and stood there for a moment, the straight edge held in limbo between past and present and his left hand moved over to his throat, tracing along the thin line that ran from ear to ear. It was so subtle, barely noticeable; the slightly raised welt could easily have been mistaken for a simple fold in the skin. But he knew better.  
His thoughts went back again, to that terrible day when he had lost one of the best friends he'd ever had; a friendship forged all that stronger because of the furnace in which it was made. Made and then broken. Heyes' jaw clenched involuntarily, his lips tightening over his teeth in anger. Now they'd come to it. They had Harris in their clenches and Heyes could see him in his mind's eye, holding the Doc in his grasp, leaving him open for the assault and Heyes' heart rate picked up and his breathing became short and shallow as his anger increased.  
Heyes dipped his blade into the bowl of water again and finished shaving. His emotions were no longer ambiguous. He would find it hard returning to the prison; he knew that. But that hardness had grown into determination; determination to see this through and to make sure that Harris paid for what he'd done. Paid for what he'd help to take away from Heyes. Paid for what he'd tried to take away from Jed and for what he had taken away from so many others.  
He wiped the remaining cream from his face and gave himself a close scrutiny in the mirror to make sure that none of those pesky little hairs remained and then he sighed and nodded to himself. He was looking better these days, even he could see it and he didn't care if David was going to continue pestering him to eat more. David had to pester his friends about something or he'd think that he wasn't doing his job; it's just the way that man was put together. Heyes could accept that, even admire it but he wasn't going to let it get to him.  
He turned to his bed and started to get dressed. Not into the same clothes that he'd been wearing and slept through the night in, but a clean set. Freshly washed and pressed before going into the satchel and now taken out and given a sharp snap to hopefully remove any wrinkles that had thought to settle in. He wasn't going to be wearing a suit—for one thing, he didn't have a decent suit yet; that would be a special purchase for Jed's wedding. Besides, he didn't think a suit would really be appropriate for a job like this—he might get blood on it.  
No; he thought it would be fitting to wear the same clothing he'd worn that distant day when he had left the prison a free man. They even fit him better now. Proof in the pudding that, despite David's cajoling, Heyes was indeed gaining weight. Or, well...maybe because of it. He donned himself in these items and then stood before the mirror one more time and nodded. Yes; he was ready.  
Then a knock to his door and Jacobs' voice beckoning him let him know that it was time that they departed.

Jacobs rented the surrey and drove them both up to the prison, occasionally sending a speculative glance over to his charge. Despite Heyes' earlier resolve to stay in control, the sight of that imposing structure slowly getting closer and closer caused anxiety to chip away at his hard outer shell and slowly seep into his soft flesh and burn at his gut. In this bleak, flat and cold landscape the prison loomed up out of the distance and simply became more and more threatening as they drove closer to it.  
“You alright Heyes?” Jacobs asked him, not only seeing, but feeling the subtle current of fear taking hold of his companion.  
“What...?” Heyes nearly choked on it. He swallowed. “Yeah. I thought I'd prepared myself for this, but....”   
“If you don't want to carry on....”  
“No,” Heyes swallowed again. “I have to see this through. Too much depends on it.”  
Jacobs nodded and gave the horse a slap with the lines to encourage it to move out a bit faster. Perhaps the sooner they got inside the building the less intimidating it would be.  
Ten minutes later they pulled up at the front entrance way, not needing to go through the main gates this time as they were official guests of the institution, not an arriving or departing inmate. Heyes felt awkward coming this way, he had only entered and exited through the main yard but this time it was different and he'd better get used to it. He took a deep breath as they disembarked and one of the lower end guards led the horse and surrey away to the employee's private stable. Heyes stood for a moment, looking up at this hated structure, at this center piece of all his nightmares and he decided then and there that he wasn't going to let it win.  
His resolve strengthened and he donned his armour of self-confidence, his facade of cockiness and he glanced over at the sheriff to find that man watching him. Heyes sent him a haughty grin and strode through the front door of the Wyoming Territorial Prison as though he owned the place. Jacobs snorted and shook his head; he knew it was all an act, but he had to admire the spunk!  
Heyes led the way down the hall towards the offices, not bothering to wait for an escort, since he already knew the way. They approached the reception desk and Heyes' forced smile spread into a genuine one.  
“Good morning Mr. Thompson,” he greeted the guard. “Taken over the position of secretary I see.” Thompson glared up at him. Heyes grinned even more. “Mr. Heyes and Sheriff Jacobs to see Warden Reece. I do believe he is expecting us.”  
Both men could see Thompson's neck muscles tense. “Just a moment. I'll see if he is ready to receive you...” Then his gaze shifted to Jacobs, not being able to honour Heyes with the formal; “...Sir.”  
“Thank you,” Heyes responded quite pleasantly.  
Thompson sent a withering look his way but then rose to his feet and knocked on the office door. Heyes heard the familiar voice responding from inside.  
“Your 11:00 appointment is here, Sir.” You could just tell that this whole episode was sticking in Thompson's craw.   
“Good! Please show them in.”  
Thompson turned back to the visitors. “This way,” he grumbled.  
Heyes smiled at him, nodded an acknowledgement and walked into the office. Jacobs followed with a subtle smile on his face.  
Heyes' smile warmed as Kenny stood up to greet them. The warden extended his hand and Heyes grasped it with a friendly shake.  
“Heyes! Good to see you. How are you holding up? You a little nervous?”  
“No, no!” Heyes insisted boldly. “I'm fine.”  
Kenny smiled. “Then how come your palms are sweaty?”  
Heyes' facade cracked. “Alright fine!” he admitted, feeling disappointed but not surprised that he hadn't been able to pull one over on the ex-guard. “I'm scared to death, but I'm not about to let Harris know that!”  
“Good.”  
“Ah, Kenny, this is Carl Jacobs. He's the sheriff over in Brookswood,” Heyes introduced them. “Sheriff Jacobs, Warden Kenny Reece.”  
The two men shook hands and Kenny motioned them into the waiting chairs. “Would you like anything to drink?” he asked them. “I know it's cold out, perhaps some coffee?”  
“No thanks Kenny,” Heyes said. “I think I've already drank a whole pot before heading out here. That might have been a mistake.”   
Kenny grinned at him. “You know where the facilities are.”  
“Uh huh.”  
“I'm fine as well Warden,” Jacobs answered him. “But thank you anyways.”  
“Alright. Lets get down to business then, shall we?” Kenny started things in motion. “Mr. Granger is already here; he's down in the lounge getting his notes in order. Mr. Briscoe is also here.”  
“Harry's here?” Heyes asked a little incredulously. “I thought he went back to Denver.”  
“No,” Kenny informed him. “He was part of the escort that brought Harris back here and he wanted to stay on for the questioning. He may actually be of some use since he did witness Harris admitting to the assault upon Beth Jordan.”  
“Oh. Yes,” Heyes mumbled. “All we have to do is find out why.”  
“Hmm,” Kenny nodded. “I don't want you getting too actively involved with the questioning Heyes, at least not right away. You can be in the room so that Harris can see you and that just might be enough to throw him off balance. But I want Mr. Granger to do most of the questioning; the rest of us are mainly there to collaborate what Harris says. Alright?”  
Heyes looked disappointed. “Oh.”  
“Let's just see how it goes, alright?” Kenny tried to soften the blow. “You're not an officer of the court Heyes. You were a witness to much of what went on, just as I was so let's just see how cooperative Mr. Harris intends to be.”  
Heyes nodded, seeing the wisdom in that. “Yeah, alright.”  
The three men approached the lounge area to find Steven and Harry in deep conversation. Apparently Steven had requested that Harry take notes during the upcoming interrogation as it would require a quick and nimble mind to keep up with the questions and answers and Steven could not think of a better person to do that than Harry Briscoe. Harry was quite happy to accept the honoured position and was quite full of himself by the time the rest of the party showed up.  
“Steven! How are you?” Heyes greeted his lawyer, quickly becoming a friend. “How's Bridget and Rosie?”  
Steven smiled and shook Heyes' hand. “We're all fine, Heyes. Though Bridget is getting a little home sick and missing everyone. She and Clem say 'hello'.”  
“Same back,” Heyes responded. “I miss her too. And I even miss Clem a little bit. It'll be nice to see them again.” Then Heyes offered his hand to the Bannerman man. “Hi'ya Harry. I thought you said you would have Abi back by lunch time!”  
“Oh now, Heyes! You can't blame me for that!” Harry was instantly on the defensive. “You didn't tell me she was so head strong—and mean too.”  
“I'd 'a thought you already had that figured out!”  
“Well...yeah...” Harry was grasping at straws. “And we did track Harris down and take him into custody—we did that for ya' Heyes!”  
“With a little help from some friends of mine,” Heyes reminded him.  
“Well...yeah...” was repeated, but then he puffed himself up again. “But a good detective knows when to accept help from outside sources. They're not gonna forget that it was a Bannerman man who brought Harris back to face justice!”  
Heyes grinned, his teasing over with. “Yeah Harry. It's good to see ya'.”  
“You too Heyes. You too.”  
“Sheriff Jacobs,” Kenny interrupted. “I'm sorry, but if you and Heyes could please leave your firearms over at the counter there, that would be appreciated. You can pick them up again on your way out.”  
“Oh, of course warden,” Jacobs readily agreed. This precaution made perfect sense to him.  
“Oh yeah,” Heyes went along with it as well and the two men unbuckled their gun belts and handed them over to the attendant.  
“Gentlemen,” Steven announced. “shall we proceed?”  
Heyes instantly felt the fist take hold of his stomach again but he hid it well and with a smile and a nod, they all made their way over to the door that Murrey was standing guard at. Heyes acknowledged him, feeling as though he were walking in a dream; this was so strange and then Murrey opened the door to allow them all to enter and Heyes got hit again with a deja vu moment.  
Suddenly he found himself back inside the visitor's room—the very same one where he had been brought so many times, shackled hand and foot, to receive his company. He hadn't recognized it coming at it from the opposite door and then, there he was standing on the other side of that table, looking over at another clean shaven prisoner, wearing stripes and shackles and snarling in defiance of his jailers.  
Heyes and Harris locked eyes for the first time since that horrid day and Heyes forgot all about being nervous. He could feel the anger and the hatred rising up in him and the desire to reach across the table and beat the living daylights out of that man was almost too much for him to resist. Harris' expression at first was shock at seeing his old nemeses but then his eyes hardened and he dared the ex-convict to do what his body language was so clearly conveying.  
Jacobs touched Heyes' arm, breaking the lock-on and instantly easing the tension in the room. Steven glanced over at his friend, hoping that bringing him into this hadn't been a bad idea. Kenny on the other hand felt that they were off to a good start. Harris was already on edge and an edgy man made mistakes.   
Everyone took their seats, facing the prisoner and it was only then, as Murrey moved around to stand behind the convict that Heyes noticed that Pearson was also in attendance. Nobody was taking any chances with Harris, but what Heyes didn't realize was that they weren't taking any chances with Heyes either. Everyone knew there was bad blood between these two and things were very likely to get heated.  
“Mr. Harris,” Kenny acknowledged the inmate. “I believe you already know Mr. Briscoe and Mr. Heyes.” Harris sat sullenly, sending glares over to the two individuals whom he had good reason to dislike. “This is Sheriff Jacobs from Brookswood; I believe he has some questions for you concerning a Miss Bethany Jordan. And this is Mr. Granger, a lawyer from Denver. You do have the right to refuse to answer questions from Mr. Granger since he has not been officially assigned to you as your council, but since we will not be discussing any crimes for which you have not already accepted responsibility for I strongly suggest you co-operate.”  
Harris snarled even more; like a wild animal trapped in a corner. “Why should I answer any questions from any of you? Maybe I'll just wait until I can get my own lawyer.”  
“Yes you could,” Kenny agreed. “but as the warden of this institution I have the right to ask you any questions I deem necessary and I also have at my disposal certain methods to encourage you to answer.”  
“We could always hang him from his heels from the third level walkway,” Heyes suggested. “Or suspend him from the ceiling by his wrists. I'm positive he'd be will to answer some question after a few hours of that.”  
“Heyes.” Kenny smiled inwardly, but sent him a subtle warning anyways.  
“What?” Heyes shrugged his shoulders innocently. “I'm just sayin'....”  
Much to Kenny's amusement, Heyes' little threat did wonders to change Harris' attitude. He looked even more sullen and resentful, but he shifted uncomfortably against his shackles and swallowed nervously. He didn't know how much clout Heyes might have in this group and he also knew that the ex-convict would have no problems with carrying out his threats.  
Heyes smiled at him.  
“Fine!” Harris submitted with a snarl. “Ask your damn questions. I'll decide if I want to answer them or not as we go.”  
“Thank you for your co-operation, Mr. Harris,” Kenny responded, then nodded to Steven. “Mr. Granger, you may begin.”  
“Alright,” Steven began, and gave a little cough which seemed to be becoming a habit with him before starting a new litigation. “I believe we all know why we're here. Mr. Harris, you stand accused of committing a number of crimes not only here at the prison but also later while you were in the state of Colorado.” Harris' response was a simple snarl. “It is these crimes that we will be discussing with you here today. The other incidences in Nebraska and Kansas for which you stand accused will be taken up by officials from those states. Do you understand?”  
“I ain't done nothin' in Nebraska and Kansas,” Harris growled. “and I was brought back here under false pretences.”  
The other gentlemen in the room sat in shocked silence for a moment before Steven stepped up once again.  
“The assault upon Dr. Morin and the attempted murder of Bethany Jordan not withstanding, you were still a fugitive from this institution,” Steven pointed out. “That in itself warranted your return here.”  
Harris snorted. “You'd 'a never 'a caught me if I hadn't been tricked!”  
It was Heyes' turn to snort but Steven put a hand on his arm to silence him.  
“In what way were you tricked Mr. Harris?” the lawyer asked him. “Men were hired to track you down and return you to this prison. It is as simple as that.”  
“You weren't supposed to use friends a' mine to do it!” Harris complained. “How's a fella supposed to stand a chance if he can't even trust his friends!?”  
Steven had to fight hard not to laugh at the absurdity of that accusation. Heyes, on the other hand took instant insult.   
“Since when did you consider Murtry your friend!?” Heyes demanded. “You killed Lobo and then you and Mac did your damnedest to do the same to Kyle...!”  
“Yeah, Murtry and Carlson!” Harris practically spit while mentioning their names. “Damn traitors! Both of 'em!”  
“What are you talkin' about?” Heyes shot back at him. “Wheat Carlson's dead!”  
“Like hell he is!” Harris shouted back. “Hell, I spent all last winter with both him and Murtry up in Montana! You think I don't know what Carlson looks like!? He's alive and kickin' and YOU BLODDY WELL KNOW IT!”  
“YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT....”  
“Heyes settle,” was all Steven had to say to him.  
Heyes stopped in mid accusation, realizing that the argument was just going to go in circles and that he was, after all arguing the losing end. He grumbled but sat back in his chair again. Kenny didn't allow his expression to change but he was pleased to see Heyes getting under Harris' skin. As long as Heyes could keep his dislike of this man from controlling him, this ploy could work out well for them.  
“You broke legal custody and committed a number of new crimes in the process,” Steven reminded the convict. “That in itself would justify whatever means we felt necessary to apprehend you and return you to this institution.”  
“And who ever heard of a woman being part of a posse!?'' Harris just didn't seem to know when to leave things alone. “Do you have any idea how degrading it is to have a WOMAN actin' like she's the boss of ya'!?”  
“Sounds kinda fitting to me,” Heyes put in. “considering the way you treat women.”  
Harris snarled at Heyes again. “What the hell you doin' here anyways, Heyes? You ain't no law man!”  
“Mr. Heyes is here by my request,” the warden informed the convict. “As I'm sure you recall, he and I were both witnesses to certain incidences in which you were involved. This way we can both collaborate in judging the truth of your statements. Even if one of us is unsure of the events, with both of us here we will be able to tell if you have chosen to prevaricate.”  
Harris looked confused and then annoyed at being confused. “WHAT!?”  
“Lie, Mr. Harris,” Steven informed him.  
Harris was not pleased; he felt like he was being ganged up on here—and he was right.  
“Now,” Steven began again. “June 14th and 15th of 1888. Do you recall what happened on those two days, Mr. Harris?”  
Harris shrugged and then sneered at the lawyer. “Those dates don't mean nothin'.”  
Heyes felt resentful anger rising up again but he kept it in check; this idiot probably couldn't even read a calendar let alone remember the dates.  
“June 14th,” Steven reiterated. “The day of your escape from this institution. The day of Dr. Morin's death. June 15th; the day of your assault with intent to kill upon Mr. Heyes and Mr. Reece and also the day of the deaths of Mr. Boeman, Mr. Warren and Mr. MacKenzie. Do those dates mean something to you now, Mr. Harris?”  
Harris shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, yeah okay. What about 'em?”  
“There is some...confusion, let's say—of who exactly organized that escape,” Steven informed him. “We were hoping you could shed some light on that.”  
“What do ya' mean; who organized it?” Harris retorted. “Boeman was in charge—and a fine mess he made of it too.”  
“Mr. Boeman?” Steven repeated.  
“Yeah.”  
“Another inmate.”  
“Yeah!”  
“An inmate organized a team of horses and a wagon full of food and a change of clothes to be waiting for you outside the prison gates?”  
Again, Harris appeared uncomfortable.  
“An inmate made sure there were no guards in the watchtowers and that the front gate was mysteriously left un-locked that afternoon,” Steven continued. Harris didn't respond but sat sullenly looking down at the table. Steven sighed dramatically, then continued. “Mr. Heyes also reports overhearing Mr. MacKenzie complaining to Mr. Boeman about taking Heyes and Mr. Reece with you as hostages. He apparently wasn't too comfortable with that scenario. Mr. Heyes also states that Mr. Boeman responded that 'that was part of the plan'. What plan was that, Mr. Harris?”  
“Well...hostages—to use in the escape.”  
“You had Mr. Heyes as a hostage, you also could have had Dr. Morin as a hostage,” Steven pointed out. “But instead, Mr. Boeman went out of his way to attack Dr. Morin thereby eliminating him as a hostage and putting you all into a dangerous situation by having to wait for a guard to show up. Why would he do that?”  
“Morin didn't have keys to the outer doors!” Harris explained, showing his contempt for these imbeciles. “Only the guards have those keys!”  
“But you had Mr. Heyes with you,” Steven again pointed out the obvious. “Indeed, Mr. Boeman stated that Mr. Heyes was coming along with you as a hostage because of his ability to open locked doors without a key. So why would Mr. Boeman eliminate Dr. Morin as a possible hostage and take the risk of waiting for an armed guard to show up when you already had an expert locksmith...” a gesture over to Heyes at this comment. “...with you?”  
Harris was really getting agitated now, shuffling about nervously and inadvertently rattling his manacles. “How should I know?” he finally snarled. “Boeman didn't tell me everything they had planned.”  
“They?” Steven asked. “Who else had planned this?”  
Harris' lips pulled back from his teeth in a snarl as he realized his slip up. “No one else!” he insisted. “Boeman planned it himself!”  
“Really?” Steven sounded sceptical. “No inside help?”  
“No.”   
“Hmm, interesting,” Steven mumbled. Then he nodded at the convict and carried on with his questions. “Both Mr. Heyes and Mr. Reece recall another incident during this amazingly planned out escape attempt. Both hostages had apparently attempted to get away from their captors and this pushed Mr. Boeman into making a decision. He stated that he had 'hoped to wait until you were all further away from the prison before doing this.....' and then threatened to kill Mr. Reece—he was actually very adamant about it and it was only Mr. Heyes' intervention that prevented it from happening.  
“Now this suggests to me that it was Mr. Boeman's plan all along to murder Mr. Reece and by all accounts, Mr. Heyes as well. That this was the reason that Mr. Heyes and Mr. Reece were brought along on this little escapade in the first place. Why would that be? Why would Mr. Boeman be so intent upon murdering a senior guard and a fellow inmate?”  
“How should I know?” Harris mumbled. “Boeman and Heyes always had bad blood between 'em—maybe Boeman just wanted get back at him.”  
“Possibly,” Steven acknowledged that. “Or, could it possibly be that Boeman was following instructions from another source?”  
“NO!” Harris was getting fed up with this. “Like I told ya'....'there was nobody else in on it! It was all Boeman's idea!”  
Steven nodded, apparently ready to accept that. “So, it was all Boeman. Nobody else was 'pulling the strings'.”  
“That's right.”  
Steven smiled. “Let's go back to Dr. Morin's murder, shall we?”  
Heyes shifted himself then and felt his own lip twitch in resentful anger. It was hard, listening to the events of that terrible day being dragged back up again, but he sat quietly and he waited.  
“What about it?” Harris asked in a sulk.  
“There is some doubt lingering as to who actually murdered Dr. Morin,” Steven informed the convict. “Indeed, Mr. Heyes stood accused of the crime and was severely punished for it.”  
“Really?” Harris sneered over at the parolee. “Well ain't that a shame.”  
Heyes just about came out of his chair and probably would have made a lunge for the inmate's throat if Jacobs hadn't put a hand on his arm right at the appropriate moment. Heyes sat back again but still glared at the inmate with his desire to cause bodily harm quite apparent.  
“You were there Mr. Harris,” Steven pointed out needlessly. “In your opinion, did Mr. Heyes attack Dr. Morin?”  
Heavy silence settled down over the interrogation room. Harris stared at Heyes with hatred in his eyes and a menacing smile on his lips. Heyes stared back, every inch of him letting Harris know what would happen to him if he dared to lie about that. Harris considered it, then broke contact with Heyes and glanced around at all the other officials who were sending him pretty much the same message. Finally Harris sighed.  
“Naw, Heyes didn't do it,” Harris admitted. “Much as I'd love to say that he did. Boeman killed the Doc.”  
“How do you know that?” Steven asked him.  
“Cause like you just said; I was right there!” Harris again couldn't believe the stupidity of these men. And they say lawyers are supposed to be smart. “I had a hold 'a Doc myself when Boeman knifed him! That was the plan all along!”  
“Yes, I think we can all agree that Mr. Boeman knifed Dr. Morin,” Steven reiterated. “but are you sure that it was that assault that killed him?”  
“What do ya' mean?”  
“Well, according to Mr. Reece and Mr. Heyes, Dr. Morin was still alive when you left the infirmary,” Steven explained. “Not only still alive, but not really seriously enough injured to die from the wound he received. Indeed, the doctor himself had insisted that he would be fine until help got to him.”  
“Yeah okay,” Harris was getting suspicious, not really sure where this was going.  
“And yet,” Steven continued. “upon returning to the prison the next day, Mr. Heyes and Mr. Reece were informed by Warden Mitchell that the doctor had indeed died—that he had actually bled to death in the infirmary. From a wound that the doctor himself had insisted was not that serious.”  
“Yeah, well—I guess he was wrong, wasn't he?”  
“Unless it was someone else,” Steven suggested. “Someone else who had a stake in this prison break, someone else who wanted Dr. Morin dead.”  
“Like I told ya'!” Harris insisted. “There was no one else! It was all Boeman's plan!”  
“There was no one else involved,” Steven repeated. “That's very admirable of you.”  
“What are you talking about?”  
“Well, from eye witness accounts and your own admittance; you were the one who held Dr. Morin down so that Mr. Boeman could inflict the 'fatal' wound,” Steven explained. “Now, if that had not been the fatal wound, and Dr. Morin had actually been murdered by someone else who entered the infirmary after you had all left, well then that would absolve you from murder. But since you insist that there was no one else involved and that you held Dr. Morin so that Mr. Boeman could inflict what was indeed the fatal wound—well, that makes you just as guilty of his murder as Mr. Boeman.”  
Harris went white as a ghost. He sat silently, his jaw working but no words coming out to his rescue.  
“Are you sure you want to stick to your claim that Mr. Boeman did not have inside help?”  
Harris continued to sit silently, refusing to answer one way or the other, but his tough guy facade was cracking and all of a sudden he was scared. He tried very hard to cover it up, but he shifted in his chair and broke eye contact with the lawyer and everyone else in the room for that matter. Beads of sweat began to appear on his upper lip and the lower one was getting a bit of a chewing.  
But still he sat stubbornly quiet; no longer willing to open his mouth just in case he said the wrong thing—again. Steven knew he had to push the stalemate.  
“We know from Mr. Reece and Mr. Heyes' accounting's of the escape attempt that when the posse caught up with you, no warning was given,” Steven pointed out. “The posse began to shoot with the clear intention of killing all of you—which they came very close to accomplishing. Now, obviously if there was someone working on the inside to help organize the escape—for whatever reason—it would appear that they had no intentions of allowing you to actually escape. Sounds like a double cross to me.”  
Harris' lips tightened in anger, indicating that the probability of a double cross had not been lost on him either.  
“Why should he be allowed to get away with murder and dump the whole mess onto your lap?”  
Harris was on the edge. His brain, what there was of it, was working overtime to decide which way to go here.  
“If I turn on him, he'll kill me,” Harris finally blurted out.  
Although the other people in the room tried to hide their relief at this confirmation of something they had all suspected but couldn't prove, none of them had much luck doing it. A collective sigh went around the group along with a few subtle smiles. Harris looked around at the faces surrounding him and snarled; he was like a trapped animal now, with no way out that offered salvation.  
“You'll be the one to hang for Dr. Morin's murder if you don't turn him in,” Steven pointed out.  
“Yeah! And if I do and he gets sent back here as an inmate!?' Harris was almost laughing at the absurdity of it. “I'm dead! He'll kill me the first chance he gets!”  
“If it's who I think it is,” Heyes finally added a comment. “and he gets sent back here as an inmate? He's the one who's gonna havta be worrying about how long he has to live.”  
Silence again. Harris was so close to breaking; all he needed was just a little bit more subtle pressure and he was going to give it up.  
“Is it who I think it is, Harris?” Heyes added that pressure.  
Harris' lower lip took another chewing. “If I tell ya' do you guarantee you”ll keep him away from me?”  
Steven sent a questioning glance over to Kenny.  
Kenny nodded. “You give us the information, not only will you be cleared of Dr. Morin's murder but I also guarantee that you will not have to worry about retaliation on his part.”  
“Alright!” Harris cracked. “Alright. Boeman and Carson cooked this whole thing up.”  
“That bastard,” Kenny couldn't help the curse while Murrey and Pearson standing in the back mumbled inaudibles under their breathes and exchanged meaningful glances. “Now I wish I hadn't transferred him out of here. I'd like nothing better than to bring him forth to answer to this.” He looked over to Harris again. “Why did Carson set this up. What did he have to gain?”  
Harris shrugged and looked uncomfortable again. “I donno...something about that hearing. You know that one that Heyes' friends set up to try and get him paroled. Apparently Carson took it real personal, especially when you,” and he looked to Kenny. “went in there with all this evidence of abuses and stuff, and Doc too and then that Jordan bitch...”  
Heyes was out of his seat in a flash and was launching himself across the table towards Harris' throat before anyone else could react.  
“YOU SADISTIC BASTARD!” Heyes yelled at him. “You watch your mouth...!”  
Fortunately the officers in the room reacted on training and though caught off guard by Heyes' sudden outburst they were in there doing their jobs before Heyes was able to reach his goal. Murrey and Pearson both rushed forward and grabbing the back of Harris' chair, yanked him back and out of Heyes' reach while Kenny and Jacobs were both instantly on their feet and grabbing at anything on Heyes' person that would stop his attack. Steven did his best to get out of the way!  
“Heyes!” Kenny yelled at him. “C'mon! Sit down!”  
Jacobs didn't say a word, but he had his charge by the belt and and scruff of his collar and was hauling him back across the table. Kenny had him by his arm and as soon as he could, he got in front of Heyes and pushed him back against the far wall.  
“SETTLE DOWN!” Kenny was in his face.  
“SEE! THIS IS WHAT I'M TALKIN' ABOUT!” Harris yelled. “You can't even protect me from that no good traitor! How are ya' gonna protect me from Carson!?”  
“Serves ya' right if Carson slits your throat!!” Heyes yelled back at him. “You bloody bastard! You went after Beth! And for what!? She was trying to make things better in here for all of us!!”  
“Carson was payin' me good money to kill her!” Harris thought he was defending himself. “Why should I care what his reasons were!?”  
“YOU BASTARD!” Heyes yelled and again tried to make a lounge for him, but Jacobs and Kenny still had a hold and they weren't letting him go.  
“HEYES! STOP IT!” Kenny slammed him into the wall again and shook him. “Calm down or you'll be spending the rest of this session out in the foyer! You hear me!?”  
Heyes' dark eyes were on fire, but Kenny locked into them and even now, the years of conditioning to back down from the guards, especially this one, came into play. He met Kenny's gaze and then slowly reason began to settle into those dark eyes and he became very much aware of his situation. Both Kenny and Jacobs still had hold of him and were pinning him against the wall so that he couldn't move. He looked away from the warden and glanced across the room to the two guards and though they weren't actually aiming their rifles at him, he knew he'd be in trouble if he pushed it.  
He dropped his gaze and actually looked a little embarrassed. Then he nodded, both to Kenny and then to Jacobs. “Yeah,” he relented. “Yeah, I'm sorry. I'm alright now. It's just...Beth...”  
“Yes I know.” Kenny eased off of him and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “But another outburst like that Heyes and you will be out of the room.”  
“Yeah, I'll be fine. Sorry.”  
Jacobs eased off of him then too and the three men sat down again. Steven, who had been holding his breath throughout this whole altercation suddenly realized that he'd better breathe again or he was going to pass out. Everyone took a deep breath and relaxed.  
Everyone but Harris. He was still snarling mad and glared at Heyes while Pearson and Murrey shuffled his chair back into place. Harry had kept totally out of the mix and had been poised and ready for a quick escape out the exit if things had gotten too out of hand. But now he too relaxed and settled back into his chair to continue taking notes. The only thing was, he wasn't sure if he should include those last bits of obscenity—but then he shrugged to himself; why not?  
Steven sent a glance over to Kenny and the warden nodded at him to continue.  
“Alright,” Steven found his place in his notes again. “So Mr. Carson arranged the prison escape in order to—what? What agreement did he have with Mr. Boeman?”  
Harris was still glaring at Heyes but he finally let it go and turned his attention back to Steven. “From what I gathered, Carson set up the break out and clear passage for Boeman and the rest of us and all we had to do to earn it was kill Morin, Heyes and Reece. Carson would supply us with everything we needed to make a clean get away and he'd also delay the posse from coming after us. The deaths of the doctor, another inmate and a guard would just look like random killings cause they got in the way and there'd be nothin' to lead anybody back to Carson.”  
A chilling silence settled over the room as the enormity of this statement sunk in. Heyes and Kenny exchanged looks and Heyes felt his throat go dry.  
“Then obviously that bastard double crossed us!” Harris practically spit. “Made sure the wagon had a faulty wheel that'd break easy and then came after us full force! That bastard! He never intended to let us go! It was all a set up!”  
“But why did he not wait?” Steven asked quietly, almost to himself. “Even if he had you all surrounded, why did he not wait until Boeman had finished the job?”  
“How should I know!?” Harris snarked. “Maybe Carson had second thoughts, or maybe somebody was on to him. Maybe one of the other guards had an itchy trigger finger! HOW SHOULD I KNOW? All I know is that he killed everyone of us—I only got away by the skin of my teeth! That fucking bastard! Maybe if he does get sent back here, I'll be the one who kills him! Why wait for him to make the first move, huh?! I'll make him sorry for double-crossing us!”  
“Yes. Well, all that aside,” Steven brought this foaming outburst to a halt. “Obviously his attempt to eliminate his three antagonists had failed, so why then go after Beth Jordan?”  
“Cause she was part of that hearing too,” Harris stated as though it should be obvious.  
“But then why not go after Mr. Briscoe here? Or Sheriff Trevors?” Steven pointed out. “They were also part of that hearing.”  
“HOW SHOULD I KNOW?” Harris was getting frustrated. “You expect me to know everything that went on in that lunatic's head!?”  
Steven smiled as though trying to placate an unreasonable child. “No, no of course not,” he assured the inmate. “Just thinking out loud.”  
Harris sat back in frustration; he was looking like he was about done in.  
“I think that's enough for today,” Kenny suggested and nodded towards the two guards. “You can escort Mr. Harris back to his cell now.”  
“Yessir Warden,” Pearson responded. “C'mon Harris, on your feet.”  
“Yeah, about time too,” Harris grumbled as he was hauled up from the chair and shuffled out through the door and back into the prison proper.  
Everyone else sat back and released a simultaneous sigh of relief. Heyes startled everyone by roughly pushing back his chair and getting to his feet. He instantly began an agitated pacing of the room and Kenny sent him a quick look before he was distracted by the forthcoming comments.  
“Well that was certainly an interesting session,” Steven stated and everyone nodded in agreement. “Now all we have to do is find Carson.”  
“I can get a hold of the authorities in Arizona,” Kenny offered. “They might have some idea.”  
“I told ya' didn't I! I told ya' it was Carson!” Heyes sniped while he continued to pace. “But did either of you believe me!? NO! Oh, you were just imagining it Heyes! You were delirious! You just wanted it to be Carson because you hate him so much!” Snort! “Now he's gone to ground! Who knows if we'll ever be able to find him! Geesh!!”  
Steven looked a bit contrite, but Kenny just looked irritated.  
“We still can't know for sure that Carson killed the Doc,” he pointed out. “He still could have bled to death from the knife wound Heyes, you know that. All Harris did was clear you of any suspicion, there is nothing at all to prove that Carson did it.”  
“OH RIGHT!” Heyes was getting more agitated. “How come you're protecting that bastard Kenny!? Just can't accept the fact that a fellow guard would do....”  
“ENOUTH!” That's about what Kenny had had too; enough. “Heyes, come with me; we need to talk.”  
“Oh right!” Heyes snarked back. “What? You think I'm still under your thumb here? All you have to do is rattle my chains and I'll do...!”  
“CONVICT! FOLLOW ME!” Then Kenny brushed past Heyes and disappeared out into the foyer.  
Heyes stopped dead in his pacing and just stood there apparently in shock; that old conditioned command sending shivers down his spine, his anger suddenly defused. But still he stood, his emotions in turmoil while his mind fought to control his body from obeying that overpowering dictate.  
“I strongly suggest you do as the warden says Heyes,” Jacobs advised the parolee. “You're riding a fine edge right now.”  
Heyes looked down at the sheriff, his mouth moving slightly in anticipation of response, but nothing was coming. He glanced around at the rest of the group to find every set of eyes on him. He sighed, and then his mouth tightened with resentment but then he gave in to the pressure and followed Kenny out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Once again, a sigh of relief made it's way around the table.

Kenny was waiting for Heyes over in the alcove and gave no indication of any doubt or relief as the ex-con approached him. Heyes still felt resentful at being beckoned in that manner and he snarked and growled and paced but still complied.  
“Perhaps it wasn't a good idea to bring you here after all,” Kenny surmised. “You don't seem to be handling this very well.”  
“I'm handling it fine!” Heyes snarked back and continued to pace within the vicinity of the warden.  
“Heyes, will you stop pacing?” Kenny asked with a sigh. “Settle down.”  
Heyes ran a hand through his hair, his expression angry and he continued to pace.  
“STOP!”  
Heyes was brought up short by the command and then stood with hands on hips, looking away from Kenny.  
“What's got you so agitated?” Kenny finally asked him. “The session went better than I had hoped although some of what Harris had to say was rather disturbing. Nothing like finding out that we were deliberately set up to be murdered.” No comment. Kenny sighed and watched him for a moment. “C'mon Heyes, calm down. Take a couple of deep breaths and calm down.” No response from the parolee, just tight resentment. “Heyes!”  
“Yeah!”  
“C'mon,” Kenny repeated though quieter this time. “A couple of deep breaths. C'mon.”  
Heyes finally complied and then as if by magic his stance softened and the tightness left his features. He ran his hands through his hair again only this time it was followed by another deep sigh and the younger man finally began to relax.  
“That's better,” Kenny encouraged him. “Now, what was that all about in there? I can understand you being angry but to lose control like that....”  
“I know,” Heyes admitted. “I don't know what got into me....” Another deep sigh. “I think I'm more angry at myself now then at Harris.” He looked at Kenny with sad eyes. “I used to be so good at this. I never let a mark get the better of me, no matter how despicable a person he was I was always able to stay in character! I mean; Kid was the one who would end up losing his temper! That's why Soapy didn't use him in the bigger cons, cause he would end up getting mad. But not me! I could stay with the con and carry it through to the end! I don't know Kenny; I don't know what's wrong with me. Now it's the Kid who's more in control and I'm the one who can't hold his tempter in check.”  
“Having you in there today was a real asset—I'm sure of it. Harris started losing his edge as soon as he saw you there,” Kenny stated. “But again, for your own sake, perhaps it was too soon to bring you back here. Perhaps you just weren't ready.”  
“No, that's not it,” Heyes announced, a sudden realization dawning across his face. “No. I know what I did wrong.”  
“What?”  
“Oh, how could I have forgotten that?”  
Kenny snorted and then smiled. “You've been out of practice for a few years you know. It's hardly surprising that you'd be a bit rusty.”  
“No, I no. But still...” Heyes brightened up, his previous anger and resentment totally forgotten about. “Before I'd go on a con I would always take time to prepare. You know; emotionally, mentally, get into character. And I'd stay in character no matter what—I never let emotions get in the way of the ultimate goal.”  
“Well, this wasn't really a con.” Kenny took exception to the term. “This was an interrogation.”  
Heyes snorted a tad bit derisively. “Same thing! We all had a role to play in there, and the con we were playing was to get Harris to think it was in his best interest to tell us the truth. And he did. It's still not going to help him though, is it?”  
“No,” Kenny admitted. “Giving up Carson will save him from the murder charge here, but what he did to that little girl is going to put a noose around his neck for sure.”  
“Yeah,” Heyes nodded. “So we conned him.”  
Kenny smiled and shrugged. “Yeah, okay,” he conceded the point. “So, what should you have done differently? You said you always prepared yourself for the role you were going to take on. What should you have done differently before coming here to pull this 'con'?”  
Heyes thought about it for a moment and then nodded reflectively. “I already knew I was going to be angry,” he admitted. “I had already set myself up to beat the living daylights outa him and I came here prepared to do just that.” He smiled and then met Kenny's gaze. “I wanted my hands around his throat more than I wanted the truth, and that was my mistake.”  
“Well at least you got that figured out,” Kenny observed dryly. “Fortunately you didn't end up killing him before he could tell us what we needed to know and we did end up getting at least some truth out of him.”   
Heyes grinned. “Yeah. And like you said; now all we have to do is find Carson!”

The next day there was a slightly larger party of travellers heading back in to Colorado than what had been heading to Wyoming. Sheriff Jacobs, Hannibal Heyes, Harry Brisco and Steven Granger had all piled onto the train together and were heading towards their respective hometowns. Steven in particular was anxious to get home to his wife and daughter, not liking to spend much time away from his young family. Harry was antsy to get back to the Bannerman agency and write his report on how he brought Carl Harris back in to justice and Heyes, of course was missing Abigail. Sheriff Jacobs was simply looking forward to getting home. He did however have one little point of interest nagging at him.  
“What was that Harris was saying about Wheat Carlson still being alive?” he asked everyone in general but Heyes in particular.  
“I think he was just confused,” Heyes answered off the cuff.  
“I don't think so Heyes,” Harry corrected him. “I know I heard Abigail refer to one of those men as Mr. Carlson.....Ouch! What did you kick me for!?”  
Jacobs sent Heyes an accusatory look. “Is Wheat Carlson still alive, Heyes?”  
“Sheriff, I can honestly say that I have not had any contact what so ever with Wheat Carlson, and as far as.....”  
“Heyes...” Steven interrupted him. “at this point, considering what you have at stake here, as your lawyer I strongly recommend that you tell the law officer the truth.”   
Heyes slumped. “I am telling the truth,” he mumbled, sending Steven a lightly vindictive look.   
“A very stretched version of it,” Steven pointed out.  
Heyes sighed and turned to look out the window, remaining stubbornly silent.  
Steven sent Heyes a reprimanding look and then turned to the waiting lawman. “Yes, Sheriff; Wheat Carlson is still alive. We weren't sure ourselves, but when Kyle Murtry was released, Jed Curry and I approached him and convinced him to admit to that. We then offered to pay both of them a decent salary if they would track down Carl Harris for us. We figured that, being outlaws—and ex-outlaws, that they would have a better chance of locating him than the law would.” Then he smiled. “And we were right, they did.”  
“Uh huh,” Jacobs still sounded sceptical and he continued to watch Heyes, who was refusing to meet his eye. “You know it's in complete violation of your parole for you to be in contact with known outlaws.”  
Heyes nodded. “Yup.” Then he did look Jacobs directly in the eye. “But I was being honest Sheriff, I have not been in contact with Wheat Carlson.”  
“He is telling you the truth Sheriff,” Steven supported what Heyes was saying. “It was myself and Jed Curry who have been in contact with Mr. Carlson. And then, of course, Mr. Briscoe and Abigail Stewert also had some dealings with him, but Heyes has stayed completely out of it.”  
“Hmm,” the sheriff nodded. “It is a very fine line you're walking Heyes. Just how long did you people expect to keep his continued existence a secret?”  
Heyes shrugged. “I donno,” he admitted. “But if the law knew he was still alive, they'd be after him with a vengeance now considering what happened to Marshal Morrison. We just thought if we could keep him dead at least for a little while, give him and Kyle a chance to get out of this part of the country—nobody needed to be the wiser.”  
“Free to carry on thieving, you mean,” Jacobs pointed out. “Mr. Murtry has paid his debt to Wyoming and now you're telling me that he's joined up with his old partner again and is probably right back doing what they've always done.”  
“I don't think so Sheriff,” Steven countered that statement. “The main stipulation of them working for us was that they were not to fall back onto thieving to make ends meet. If they needed money all they had to do was wire me and I would send them some. Not to mention we paid them a tidy bonus for not only tracking Harris down, but for taking him into custody as well. They won't be needing money again for a while.”  
“That's fine for right now,” Jacobs argued. “But what about six months from now? You can't tell me they won't just slid right back into their old lives again.”  
Heyes and Steven exchanged glances, neither one of them wanting to divulge anything that was still just speculation, but at the same time not seeing any way out of it.  
“Kenny once suggested that I might make a good detective myself,” Heyes explained somewhat reluctantly. “Me and Jed and Steven have kinda been talking about it and we're thinking that once all this stuff is over and done with that maybe that's something that me and Jed can do.”  
Harry snorted. “What!? You two!?” he asked sceptically. “You two work for Bannerman's!?”  
“Well, no. Not Bannerman's,” Heyes admitted.  
“You think Pinkerton's would take you on?” Harry sounded even more incredulous with that idea. “Two ex-outlaws!?”  
Heyes smiled. “No Harry,” he repeated. “If Jed and I were going to do it, we'd be free-lance. We'd set up our own office. Steven could be our consulting lawyer and...we were thinking...Wheat and Kyle could kinda work for us—under the table, so to speak.” He smiled, a little shyly, knowing full well that Sheriff Jacobs was sending him a rather incredulous look. “They did do an excellent job of tracking down Harris.”  
“And just how do you intend to do that without having contact with him?” Jacobs asked. “Even if your lawyer and your partner covered that end of things, I donno Heyes—I think you're pushing the envelop on this one. Wheat Carlson is still a wanted man.”  
“Yeah, I know, I know,” Heyes nodded. “But we were thinking that maybe...after how helpful Wheat has been with this situation that perhaps....Steven could convince Governor Warren to grant Wheat Carlson an amnesty.” Then he brightened up and carried on with more enthusiasm before Jacobs could veto that idea. “But nobody needs to know about it, see? That way Wheat could still have access to some of the seedier places that a lawman couldn't get into. He could be like; working under cover. And Kyle could help him. I...I think it's a good idea.”  
The clackety clack of the train wheels could be heard clearly through the silence that followed this declaration. Jacobs wasn't quite sure what to make of this grand plan and he just sat and stared at Heyes while be tried to digest this information. Heyes smiled at him and then took to looking out the window again.  
“That's a real hair-brained idea,” Jacobs finally declared, and Heyes' heart sank. “But crazy enough that it just might work.”  
Heyes sighed with relief and grinned. Harry snorted again.  
“There would be a lot of details to work out though,” Jacobs reminded his charge. “The conditions of your parole cannot be ignored.”  
“I know,” Heyes conceded. “But Kenny has said that he would support us in this, and Steven too. Now if you would back us up and....Harry?”  
“I don't know about that Heyes,” Harry tried to look serious. “I have my reputation to think about. What would Mr. Bannerman think about me helping out two ex-outlaws in their own private detective agency? Kinda supporting the competition, don't ya' think?”  
It was Heyes' turn to snort. “C'mon Harry! We'd be small potatoes next to Bannerman's and besides you wouldn't have a reputation to worry about if it wasn't for me and the Kid.”  
“Yeah, yeah. I suppose you're right about that,” Harry conceded. “I suppose I could help ya' out on occasion—so long as it didn't interfere with my real job!”  
“Oh no! Of course not Harry,” Heyes assured him and then sent a grin over to Steven.  
“I suppose we can look into this a bit further once we track down this Carson fella,” Jacobs agreed to that much, and then he sighed and shook his head. “What the hell am I getting myself into here!?”

“Abi, They’re back!”  
She rushed over to the door at the sound of Jesse’s cry, smiling with relief at the happy smile on Heyes’ face. It had gone well, and Lord, he badly needed a boost. She stepped out onto the porch, before jumping down and darting over to the wagon. Heyes turned glowing eyes on her.  
“Abi!” He jumped down catching her up in an enveloping hug, nuzzling into her neck. “I love the welcome home, but it’s freezing. Get back in, and I’ll be there in a minute.”  
She captured his mouth in a kiss of welcome, and pulled back holding his face in both hands. “I was so worried.”  
“Worried?” Heyes queried. “But you told me to go.”  
“Only that it might not give you what you needed to hear,” she embraced him again. “I knew you would find some moments difficult. An uncertain resolution might have brought you more nightmares.”  
His dimples pitted his thin face, but his eyes danced. “It went real well, Abi,” he pushed her towards the house and gave her a playful pat on the backside. “Now, get inside and make some coffee. I’ll tell you all about it in a minute.”   
Heyes kicked the snow from boots and smiled at the scene of domesticity in the kitchen. It was good to be back at the Double J., and life was finally settling down. Now that it was clear who was behind the escape and the doc’s death, he had a chance at getting some of the parole restrictions lifted. Abigail was preparing the evening meal, and the Kid, ever pleased to assist, was sticking around to make sure he could taste-test anything. The bottomless pot of stew had long been consigned to the pig fodder, a huge pot of chicken broth followed by a baked ham, and mashed potatoes was promised. The desert was some kind of Scottish confection, the name of which none of them could even hear as anything other than rolling ‘rs’ and throat clearing. But their fears had been allayed by the presentation of a delicious dish made with cream and preserved raspberries, topped with toasted oats, honey, and some of Jesse’s whiskey. It was good to have a woman around again.   
“Well, let’s have it?” asked the Kid. “You wanted Abi to be here before you told me. How did it go?”  
“Great,” Heyes took the cup of coffee offered by Abigail. “That little worm didn’t want to admit to anything, but they had him backed into a corner by the questions.”   
“So, they know you had nothin’ to do with the doc’s death and that you were just a hostage in the breakout?” the Kid pushed.  
“They sure do, and Steven’s taking that to the governor’s office to see if they can get the parole lifted.”  
The Kid’s eyes glowed with happiness. “That’d be great, Heyes. Just don’t get your hopes built up, though. You’re here, anything else is a bonus.”  
“That’s not all,” Heyes scanned the room to observe the reactions to his news. “Harris admitted that Carson was behind all of this; the breakout, the attack on Beth, everything. We can’t be certain, but we think it was revenge for giving evidence at the hearing.”  
Kid processed the news. “So they’ve arrested Carson?”   
Abigail frowned. “Harris was paid to hurt Beth? Why?” she fixed Heyes with a searching look. “Who’s Carson? Do you know him?”  
Heyes nodded. “The Doc’s been telling me that Carson killed him for months.”   
“You had a dream about that?” the Kid demanded.  
“Many times,” Heyes frowned, staring off into the distance. “Everybody kept telling me it couldn’t be real.”  
Abigail shook Heyes’ arm. “Who’s Carson?” she persisted.  
“One of the guards,” Heyes muttered, pensively. “He had it in for me the moment he laid eyes on me.”  
“Have they arrested Carson?” the Kid pressed.  
“Carson?” Abigail reiterated. “A guard? Is he the one who tortured you?”  
Heyes breathed heavily. “Yup. He was sacked for beating a prisoner to death. They can’t prove anything, and now he’s disappeared.” Heyes rubbed his temples distractedly. “The doc’s been telling me his name in those dreams. He named Carson as his killer.”   
“He’s a guard!?” Abigail gave a cry and dropped to her knees. Tears started to stream down her face. "Topeka! They're all in Topeka."  
"Yeah," replied the Kid. "I took them there."  
"Don't you see? I wrote to the prison. They'll have that address, and now Carson's on the run..." She raised hopeless, glittering eyes. “They’re all there, and Carson will have the address!”

 

To Be Continued.


	6. Tiger By The Tail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abi puts her life at risk to draw out their enemy.
> 
> Heyes seeks his revenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Violence, murder committed.

Tiger by the Tail

 

Belle smiled at Hester as she tore open the envelope.  “Is it from Jesse?  Can we go home?”  
Hester’s face gave nothing away as she scrutinized the contents of the telegram.  She raised her head.  “Maggie!!”  
The unconventionally mouthy housemaid strode into the hall, the tone telling her that Doctor Bentham was serious.  “Yes, Doctor?”  
“I need you to go home.  We have to leave urgently.  I will give you a month’s pay, and you needn’t come back until we send for you.”  
“Oh!” Maggie’s round face brightened at the prospect of paid time off.  “Do you know when you’ll be back?”  
“No, Maggie, I don’t, but we will pay you for any time we don’t need you.   There’s no reason for you to lose out.”  
“Very good, doctor.”  Maggie’s face split into a broad grin at the prospect of a paid sabbatical.  “I’ll finish up for the day.  That’s very kind of you.”  
“No, I need to you go now.”  Hester ushered the maid towards the kitchen.  “We’re leaving right away.  Get your coat.”  
“But the lunch dishes...”  
“Never mind those, Maggie, I’m in a hurry.”  Hester’s tone became firm.  “I need you to go.”  
Maggie toddled off, her loose bun shaking from side to side along with her head, as she muttered under her breath imitating her employer’s tone.  “I need you to go right away, just leave those, Maggie!  It won’t be that when I have to come back here in a month and they’re crusted dry.”  Belle and Hester shared a glance of amusement.  “It’ll be, ‘get those dishes washed; clear up that kitchen; do this; do that.  Why don’t you stick a broomstick up my...”  
Hester folded her arms.  “Do you have something to say, Maggie?  Because if you do, I can always make sure that the local charity hospital makes use of the time for which I’m paying.”  
Maggie’s eyes bulged, but her mouth snapped shut before she scuttled over to the coat hanging on the back door and pulled it on over her apron.  “Be sure and tell me when you need me again, doctor.”  She jammed a little bonnet covered in faded, droopy flowers on her hairdo and speared it ruthlessly with a glittering hatpin.  “Have a safe journey.”   
They watched the door close behind her.  “Are we leaving now?” Belle asked, her eyes glowing with excitement.          
“Home?”  Beth gushed.  “Oh, that would be wonderful!  Not that you haven’t been very hospitable, Hester, but you know how it is – home’s best.”  
Hester nodded.  “Unfortunately, I know exactly how it is.  Becky and J.J. are playing upstairs?”  
Belle picked up on the tension in Hester’s tone.  “Yes, pirates, I think...”  
Hester strode over to her desk.  “Can you handle a gun?”  
Beth and Belle stared at her.  “We both can, why?”  
“Good.  They know where you are.”  She handed out a handgun and Derringer to both women along with boxes of ammunition.  “Get the children and take them down to the cellar, then take food from the kitchen, to make sure we can manage until reinforcements get here.”  
Beth’s eyes widened.  “They know?  Then we need to leave.”  
“That’s the last thing we need to do.  We have cover here, and help’s coming,” Hester bustled over and locked the back door before making sure the windows were latched and the catches screwed shut.  “I’ll lock up and we’ll sit tight.  Abigail’s already sent for backup.”  
“Why should we just sit here and do what she says?” Beth demanded.  
Hester flicked stern eyes in her direction “Because she’s out there putting her life at risk for you, young woman,” her voice softened.  “I know you’ve had a frightening time, but I’m better trained in protecting people than most men you’ll meet.  We take cover and wait for help.  Please, just do as you’re told.”  
Beth bit into her lip.  “What do I tell the children?”   
“Tell them it’s a game; cavemen, or something, and bring board games.  They’ll drive us mad down there.”  Hester dragged the curtains closed.  “It’s getting dark; that’s a good thing.  When they come to get us out of here, it’ll be harder to find a target.”  
Belle watched her daughter rush upstairs.  “I’ll get the food.”  
Hester gave her a reassuring smile.  “It’ll be fine, Belle, truly.  Abi’s very good at what she does.  She’ll catch them”  
“She teaches piano and French,” murmured Belle with a worried frown.  “For the last ten years, at least.  It’s been a long time...”  
“You may have a point,” Hester nodded, a smile playing around her lips.  “Her piano could be better.  I always find her adagios slightly too fast.”      
   
   
Hester and Belle had dragged down mattresses, blankets, and cushions for comfort and once the door had been safely bolted from the inside the children enjoyed a picnic in the ‘cave’, lit by the oil lamp hung on the wall.  Dinner over, the children amused themselves by playing Parcheesi with Belle, whilst Beth and Hester read.  Beth dropped her book staring off into the dark corners of the cellar.  
“You’ll be fine, Beth,” Hester murmured quietly.  “I promise you.”  She stretched out a comforting hand and patted her arm.  “You’ve had a very frightening time, but you have so many good people working for you.  We’ll keep you safe.”  
“But what if you can’t?  Why does anybody hate me this much?  What have I done?”  
Hester put her book on her lap.  “Beth, I think when we get to the bottom of all this, you’ll find that it’s not about you.  What could you have done?  Criminals use people, sweetheart, somebody’s trying to get to someone else by hurting you.  I won’t allow that to happen.”  
“Who?”  
“You’re father’s fairly well-off, it could be a way to get money from him, or it could be another reason.”  
Beth frowned.  “What other reason?”  
Hester paused, trying to assess how mature this young woman was.  “You might be keeping company with some people who have enemies.  Have you considered that?”  
Beth shook her head.  “Nobody could hate Jed or Joshua that much.”  
Hester glanced over at Belle, who had clearly decided to let her daughter hear a different perspective on the man she loved.  “They could, and very well may do – that’s why Abi,” she hesitated.  “It’s why she did what she did.”  Hester glanced at the children.  “Come with me Beth.  I have some things to explain to you.”  
“Where are you going, Aunt Hester?” asked Rebecca.  
Hester led Beth towards some shelves at the other end of the cellar.  “We’re going to see if I have any ginger cordial down here.  Would you like a glass?”  
“Oooh, yes!  You should taste it, J.J.  It’s wonderful.  Mama makes it.”  Rebecca leaped to her feet.  “Let me help.”  
“It’s your turn, Becky,” Belle called, smiling at Hester.  “We’re all waiting.”    
Rebecca turned.  “Oh!  Right, I’m coming – I’m gonna win!”   
“Oh, no you ain’t,” chortled J.J.  “I am.”  
Hester led Beth to the shelves lining the wall at the far end of the cellar.  It had been roughly divided into two sections by a wooden partition with a flimsy door; one where coal was dumped down the chute, and the other which served as root cellar, storage, and sanctuary during storms.  Hester stopped when they were as far away from the children as possible.  “We need to keep our voices low, Beth.  You do understand how prolific they were, don’t you?”  
“Of course, I read everything I could about them.”  
Hester smiled patiently.  “When you read anything, anything at all, you need to bear in mind that every piece is written by a person – a person with human frailties, points of views, and agendas.  Sometimes the motive will be to sell the article, so they will put down whatever is going to sell the best.  One writer may want to glorify them, and another may wish to vilify them to galvanize the populace into action.”  
“Of course I understand that,” Beth looked offended.  Who was this old woman to tell her about Jed; and why did she always wear what looked like men’s jackets?  Her mouth firmed into a line.  “You could say the same about anyone who tells stories about them.”    
Hester smiled, her eyes glittering strangely in the twilight.  “They were dangerous men, Beth.  To a fair degree, their success lay in the fear they engendered, in their enemies, competitors, and their victims.”  
“People knew that they would never get hurt by them, as long as they did what they were told.  Everyone knows that.”  
Hester nodded.  “Yes – and that has an obvious implication on what will happen if they don’t.  Have you ever been held at gunpoint and told to hand over anything you value?”  
Beth folded her arms.  “Why are you helping if you hate them?”  
“I don’t hate them, Beth – far from it.  They were also amongst the most humane and intelligent criminals I ever encountered, but please don’t think for a moment that they don’t have a dark side.  I applaud and support their decision to leave that behind, and to use their talents more constructively, but not everyone may share that view.  I like them enormously – I even trust them; now – but back then I would count my fingers after shaking their hands.  Not everyone may have moved on.  That’s what Abigail is investigating, as well as looking for any other motive.”  
Beth picked up on the gentleness in Hester’s tone, moderating the harshness of her message.  “Do you think she’ll find them?”  
“I have every confidence in her.  The fact that we are down here means that they have uncovered information.  She has found something.”  Hester looked deeply into Beth’s eyes.  “You don’t like Abigail, do you?”  
Beth looked flustered, wrong footed by the question.   “I don’t know her.”  
“That’s right, you don’t.  It’s alright not to like her, many women find her difficult.  She refuses to conform to the way society thinks women should behave, as do I.  Many find her shocking.  She is also highly trained in working in secret, and assuming roles.  People like that are trained to give out nothing of themselves – to form a blank page in the mind; and those they meet will fill in the gaps by themselves without even realising it.  It gives the agent a quick back story, because people are generally too lazy to find out the truth.  It’s a mental trick  used by spies for a very long time– I suspect you did the same, and labelled her as a woman who hurt Hannibal.”  
“I...” Beth shrugged.  “As I said, I only really met her for a short time.”  
“You’re loyal to your friends, and a very loving girl, Beth.  You and Jed are well suited.”  
“Thank you.”  
“Abigail and Hannibal’s eldest daughter was in her pram.  They were walking in the park when an old enemy of his drew his gun and fired at him.  It missed and hit the child.  She was ten months old.”  
Beth blanched.  “Ten months?”  
“Yes, Abigail then shot and killed their attacker.  She was arrested for murder.”  
“No!  But she was right.”  Beth let the information sink in.  “She clearly wasn’t convicted.”  
“Hannibal wouldn’t leave her to stand trial without him, so she went on the run – just to get him to leave.  Everyone knew he’d be recognised, especially as the press were working themselves into a frenzy at the poor mother who killed at a moment of passion.  I had to work hard, and use all the influence I could, but I eventually managed to get the charges dismissed for her.”  
“Good!”  Beth darted a look at the children, aware that her voice had carried in her vehemence.  She continued more quietly.  “She should never have been tried for that.”  
“Well, technically it was a crime, but morally...”  Hester shrugged.  “They slept together, one last time before she disappeared.  That was how Becky was conceived.  When she found out she was pregnant she was terrified, and came to me for help.”  
“Your help?  She wanted to get rid of it!?”  
“Absolutely not; she would never do that.  Her family were already outraged at her becoming a detective, and at having an illegitimate child with a criminal.  The murder charge was all a step too far.  They disowned her.  She had nobody.  Nobody at all.”  
“She could have contacted Jed and Hannibal.  They’d have helped her.”  
“No, Beth.  She couldn’t – she was also terrified of losing her new baby to another of their enemies.  She was totally lost and alone.  Abigail may appear to be strong and independent, but she has her weaknesses just like anyone else.”  
Beth paused processing this information.  “You’ve been a good friend to her.”  
“And she has been a good friend to me - just as you have been to the boys, Beth, and we all need those.  She didn’t mean to hurt your friend, Beth.  She had a desperate choice to make.  I think I would have made the same decision.  Taking risks with a child’s life isn’t really a choice.”  
“I don’t know what I would have done.”  
“Your parents would have supported you, I’m sure of that.”  Hester smiled.  “Women are thrust into all kinds of difficult decisions because they cannot plan their families.  I know you are getting married soon.”  
Beth smiled.  “Oh, I want a big family.  So does Jed.”  
“And I’m sure you shall have it.  I can talk to you about some things you can do to have them come when you are ready,” Hester gave a discrete twinkle.  “The law prevents me from advising on it, but I get so angry when I see young women worn out from pregnancy, after pregnancy, with no time to recover in between.   Most good doctors would advise on spacing them out, and I can help you with that, if you are interested?  Have you heard of a womb veil?”  
“No.  You can plan it?” gasped Beth.  
“Oh, yes, dear.  Men generally disapprove, and think women should be left to the vagaries of nature,” she tutted dismissively.  “Trust me; they’re none too keen on nature running its course when they are affected by something.  Most of them are complete babies when it comes to pain.  If the Queen of England hadn’t insisted on pain medication for her confinements most doctors still wouldn’t consider it necessary.”  Hester grinned.  “She was the queen.  They couldn’t refuse her, in the same way they could a housewife.  She used cannabis, and a few other things, to relieve labour pains – and once she had it, everyone else did too.  You make sure you do the same, Beth.  Only an idiot suffers when they don’t have to.”          
“I don’t know what Jed would say if I talked about planning on spacing them out,” murmured Beth.  
“The Jed Curry I l know would want his wife to be well and happy, with time to enjoy her baby before another one comes along.  I’m talking about planning a family, not preventing it.  You can also use pessaries containing alum or sulphate of zinc and iron.  It’s merely a choice, but I just wanted to let you know your options.”  Hester’s eyes darted up, tilting her head to listen to the night.  She picked up a bottle from the shelf.  “Here, ginger cordial.  Give this to the children, and keep them absolutely silent.  I think I just heard someone.  We’ll talk about this later.”  
   
   
Beth and Belle clasped the children to them, huddled under the stairs to keep out of the range of any shots fired through the door.  Belle lifted the glass to J.J.’s lips, allowing him to sip the cordial.  He quickly picked up on his mother’s anxiety, clinging silently to her and staring at his big sister, the whites of his eyes catching the light.  Rebecca leaned over, patting the younger child’s hand.  “You’re being very brave, J.J.,” she whispered with a smile.  “A real man.  Auntie Hester says we need to be real quiet.”  
Hester glanced at the children, but nodded at Rebecca.  She was vivacious, but read people well, and knew she had to be silent.  J.J. was an unknown quantity; the boy’s bottom lip was starting to quiver.  This was a danger; the poor child could burst into tears at any time.  
The doctor sucked in a breath, following the miniscule sounds out to the area where the coal was dropped into the cellar.  She stood, staring up at the coal hatch.  Was that a twig snapping?  Was somebody there?  Hester raised her gun pointing at the hatch – it was bolted from the inside, so if anyone tried to get in that way they were likely to get their head blown off through the doors.    
She dropped her arm.  The sounds receded; or did they?  They were practically inaudible and Hester began to doubt if she had heard anything at all.  She walked back into the main part of the cellar.  
“Was there...”  Beth asked anxiously, but she was quickly cut off by a piercing look from Hester.  Beth began to suck in anxious breaths.  Were they here?  Had they come for her again?  Rebecca was quick to grasp her hand, clasping it to her chest.  Beth looked down at the child in surprise – the dark eyes no longer swirled with mischief; they seemed to transmit wisdom beyond the girl’s years.  Rebecca smiled, nodding gently before she pulled Beth’s hand up to her lips, kissing it softly and hugging her close.  Beth felt Rebecca’s breathing against her; calm, regular and even.  She either trusted her Aunt Hester or hadn’t grasped what was going on.  Beth closed her eyes and hoped beyond hope that she could trust her life to this strange, middle-aged woman too.  How she wished Jed was here.  Why hadn’t he stayed with her?    
Hester had changed focus.  Was that the sound of a door opening?  She had moved over to another area of the cellar and was aiming above their heads.  She was now holding the gun in a two handed grip, pointing straight up.  If anyone walked over the floor above them, they would be dispatched by a shot through the floorboards.  Beth hugged Rebecca to her and braced for the explosive shot.  Hester clearly believed that there was someone up there.  Beth caught a breath at the squeak from a floor board above her head and her blood turned to ice water.  Somebody was up there.  There was no room for doubt any more, someone was walking in the hallway above them.  Beth screamed silently in her head –why didn’t Hester shoot?  He was there, creeping about.  Beth’s hand went up to her mouth, her teeth clamping into her knuckles and her stomach turning over in fear.  The door rattled and every nerve in Beth’s body jangled, alight with terror; memories flooding back of lying on the ground, drowning in her own blood.  Her breath came in great rasps of panic.  Why didn’t that mad woman shoot?          
   
   
The shadowy figure crept up to the rear of the townhouse in Topeka, taking care not to make any noise on the frozen roads made of the same hard, red bricks as the building.  He looked up waiting until the moon drifted behind a cloud, casting the shingles and cladding decorating the upper story of the building into deep, dark shadows.  He paused, listening hard.  This was as good a time as any to make his move.  He ghosted over to the entrance to the cellar, his fingers stopping before touching the lock.  He had second thoughts; this was not the best way into this building, it was probably best to go where an intruder would be least expected – in this house the entrance to the cellar could be booby trapped.  He nodded silently to himself and made for the front door.  
It didn’t take long to manipulate the tumblers on the lock, so the front door creaked open easily.  He gave a snort of annoyance as it stopped suddenly.  Trust that damned woman to have a security chain on the door.  His fingers groped around in the dark, fiddling with the mechanism before releasing the chain, allowing the heavy wood-panelling to creak open, while he stood to the side, safely out of the way of any flying missiles.  
Ten seconds seems like a lifetime when measured by the human heartbeat, but he waited that long before sidling carefully into the house.  He cocked his head, trying to gauge any sound in the house.  There was nothing.  They hadn’t left the house, he was sure of that.  Where would he hide women and children?  He glanced up the stairs, quickly dismissing the idea.  No way out from up there; most folks would head upstairs, and hide under beds and in wardrobes; but Hester Bentham was a Doctor – logical, methodical and analytical – she wouldn’t go where there wasn’t an alternative escape.  The cellar!  Yes, that’s where she’d have taken them.  There was the regular entrance through the kitchen, and the coal chute he’d already investigated.  He crept forward, wincing at the creaking floorboard squawking his progress to anyone in the house.  This wouldn’t do!  That doctor was probably right underfoot and would shoot him through the floor if he wasn’t more careful.  He pulled at the door to the cellar.  Locked – bolted from the inside – in his mind’s eye he could see them now; women and children huddled in a corner under the staircase, where they couldn’t be easily shot through the door, but it was a cellar.  A bullet could ricochet and the doctor would know that.  
“Hester!” he hissed.  “Open this damned door.  It’s me – Cage.”  
He heard scuffling and creaking before bolts were dragged back and the door opened and the tentative face of Hester Bentham appeared through the gloom.  
“Cage?”  Hester visibly heaved a sigh of relief in the candlelight.  “You came?”  
The man nodded his blond head.  “Yup, Abi sent me a telegram – so did the Pinkerton Agency.  They even made a call on the telephone machine to the office.*  They’re takin’ this real serious.”    
“Can you get us out of here?  Is it safe?” Hester’s eyes darted down to the cellar.  “That poor young woman was already shot in the throat.  She’s terrified.”  
Cage’s blue eyes widened.  “She’s been shot!?”  
Hester stretched out a hand to pacify the Pinkerton.  “Was – months ago – she’s still scared though.”  
“Yeah, I’ll bet she is.  We’ve got a team of ten on this, Hester.  We’ll get you out.  We’ve got an armoured wagon, and back up to make sure that nobody follows you.”  
Hester peered over his shoulder.  “Where are they?”  
Cage smiled, his blue eyes glittering in the candle light.  “Outside, Hester.  I came in alone because if you'd heard a troop of men clatter through here you’d have shot off their...”  He paused, mischief playing around his lips.  “You’d have shot them.”  
She gave a grin of relief.  “Let me get them.”  She turned, calling down the stairs.  “We can go.  We’re fine, but you must all be very, very quiet.”  Hester walked out of the cellar, covering the windows while Cage ushered the group down the hallway, with Hester bringing up the rear.  Belle gave a little yelp of surprise at the dark man hiding in the shadows by the front door, and clutched J.J. and Beth to her.  “It’s fine,” whispered Hester.  “I know him – in fact, I helped train him.”  
“Where are we going?” asked Belle.  
“The Pinkerton offices in Topeka.  Once we get you there, they’ll never be able to track you.”  
Beth’s big eyes gleamed through the night.  “Who are you?” she rasped.  
The tall man didn’t look at her as he answered, fixing on the street and the shadows between the front door and their getaway vehicle.  “Cage Atwater, Miss Jordan.  I’m an old friend of Abi’s.  Just do as you’re told and you’ll be fine.”  
“He’s Uncle Cage,” squeaked Rebecca.  
Hester shot her a look of admonishment.  “Ssh!”   
The little group were ushered into a covered wagon, surrounded by a fortress of armed men.  
“Uncle Cage, aren’t you coming with us?” Rebecca asked.  
The tall man laid a large hand on her arm.  “No, darlin’.  Go with Aunt Hester.  I’m gonna wait for your momma.  She’s gonna want to know where you’ve gone, won’t she?”  
Rebecca beamed.  “Mama’s coming?  We’ll see her for Christmas?”   
“Nothin’ gets you down, does it, Becky?”  Cage darted a glance at Hester before he smiled at the child.  “I dunno, darlin’, but I’m sure she’ll come as fast as she can.”  He chucked her under the chin.  “She adores you, you know?  You’re all she lives for, so I’m gonna look after you for her.”  He rattled the door closed and fastened it in place.  “Now, get outta here!”  
They watched the lean silhouette of the tall man standing in the middle of the road recede as the vehicle creaked off into the night.  
“What kind of name is ‘Cage?’” murmured Beth.  
“It’s short for ‘Micajah,’” Hester replied, quietly.  “It’s a biblical name, I believe.”  
Beth cuddled into her mother.  “Wow!  And I though Hannibal had a terrible name.  Wait until I tell him.”

Abigail fixed them with glittering eyes, the tears spilling over as she tried to blink them away.  “The Pinkertons have them.  They’re safe.”  
The Kid looked down at the crumpled telegram in her tight, little hand and heaved a huge sigh, pulling off his hat and running his hand through is hair.  He cast his eyes skyward as though uttering a prayer.  “Thank God.”  
Relief flooded over all three of them, washing away the stoical front.  “How could I have been so stupid as to send them all to an address known to the prison?” Abigail murmured, wandering over to a bench on the railway platform.   
“You weren’t stupid, sweetheart.  You were doin’ your best.  Most folk wouldn’t have come at all.”  The Kid stretched an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a gentle hug.  “Thank God they knew which train we were on.  If they hadn’t caught us on the way there, I’d have been goin’ mad by the time we got to Topeka.”  
“Where are they?” Heyes took the telegram from her hand.  “Does it say?”  
“They’ll take them to the Pinkerton offices, and move them on from there,” Abigail sat down heavily.  “I don’t care where they are, as long as they’re safe.”  
Heyes sat beside her, laying an arm along the back of the bench, regarding Abigail earnestly.  “You know, in all the years I’ve known you, I’ve seen you cry- what, two, maybe three times?  Yet, since you’ve been back, I’ve seen you in tears fairly easily.  Are you turning normal on me?”  
She gave him a watery smile.  “I suppose I am.  I don’t have keep up the front of being an officer of the law anymore, and we’re all on the same side now too.”  
“I’ll never see you as normal, Abi,” grinned the Kid.  
Abigail turned indignant eyes on him.  “Why?”  
“I’d never treat Beth, or any other woman, in the same way I’d treat you.”  He watched her dark eyes simmer with hurt and he started to chuckle.  “Don’t get me wrong, you’re real feminine, but I’d never pin Beth or Randa down in a horsebox.  You’re one of us.”  He darted innocent, blue eyes between Heyes and Abigail.  “What?  It’s a compliment.  I just meant she doesn’t seem like she’d break as easy as some girls.”  
“Really?” Abigail snorted.  “Well, just bear in mind I owe you some reciprocal horse dung.”    
“See, that’s what I mean,” the Kid beamed.  “Can you imagine Belle threatenin’ me with that?  With Abi you know she really means it, once she finds one of those fancy horses.”  
Heyes bit into his lip.  “Sorry to be practical.  This sounds like quite a big operation.  Who’s paying for this?” he asked, tentatively.  “I don’t have much in the way of savings.”     
“When it’s the family of an agent or ex-agent being threatened they’ll move heaven and earth, Mr. Heyes.  It could happen to any of us.  I’ve done it for another agent and there were no charges.  We look after our own.”  Abigail stood, watching the guard start to usher passengers back onto the train after the stop.  “They only had to get them out.  I expect that Hester will sort something from there.  I sent a telegram to Cage.  I know he’ll help.”  
They started to walk back towards the train.  “Cage?  Who’s that?” asked Heyes.  
Abigail smiled.  “He’s a Pinkerton.  His wife joined the agency at the same time as I did.  He’s the man we told the sheriff you’d report to in Topeka, as well as signing in at the Pinkerton offices.  Sheriff Jacobs was only happy to let you go when we told him you were going to see your estranged daughter, and that you’d be well supervised.  I think he’s determined to keep you on the straight and narrow.”  
“Yeah, I’m glad the Pinkertons confirmed he’d do it, or I probably wouldn’t have been able to come, but I thought the name we gave was Micajah Atwater.”  Heyes held up a hand to help Abigail up into the railway carriage.  
“He hates the name.  Everyone calls him Cage.”  
“I can’t say I blame him,” the Kid chuckled.  “It makes ‘Hannibal’ sound as run-of-the-mill as ‘Bill,’ or ‘John.’”  
“At least he can shorten it,” muttered Heyes.  “What have I got?  Han sounds like a girl’s name.”  
Knowing that their loved ones were safe and well started to make them elated, their tension falling quickly.  “Dunno, what else could we call you?” the Kid asked.  “Haniel?  Maybe something to do with elephants?”    
Abigail took a seat.  “I’ll stick with Mr. Heyes.  I don’t want to risk upsetting him.”    
“Since when have you been worried about that?”  Heyes sat down beside Abigail.  “So Anya won’t be there when we arrive?”      
“She’ll be somewhere safe, Mr. Heyes.  That has to be our priority.  Cage is meeting us at the station; he’ll give us more detail when we get there.”  
“Beth must have been terrified,” murmured the Kid.  “We need to solve this.  We need to find Carson.  Have you thought of any reason why he’d hate you so much yet, Heyes?”  
Heyes shook his head.  “Nope, not unless we robbed him and I can’t remember it; but I can’t see Carson owning a railway or a bank.  He sure seemed to have it in for me, but I thought it was just personal.  Going after Beth takes it to a whole new level.”  He glanced over at Abigail, recognizing that look in her eyes.  Her mind was buzzing with possibilities, searching every angle, and pitfall.  “I thought he was just a bully.  I did think it could be the hearing, but I’m not so sure anymore.”  
“Neither am I, from what you’ve told me about him.”  Abigail frowned and looked aimlessly out of the window as the train pulled out of the station.  “For Harris to make two attempts, and risk being re-captured takes it beyond revenge for the hearing.  That’s persistent, and he must have had some kind of motivation beyond loyalty to Carson, otherwise, why not just disappear and enjoy his freedom.  Surely he was being paid?  We have no way of knowing that right now.  We don’t even know if he’s headed to Topeka.  Are we going in the right direction?  Could Carson be headed somewhere else?”  
“If we’re makin’ sure they’re safe, we’re goin’ in the right direction,” the Kid stated firmly.    
“I have no doubt they are.  Hester and Cage will make sure they are safe.”  Abigail sat back against her seat.  “If he’s targeting your loved ones, we have to assume that Topeka’s the next place they’ll go.”  
   
 The train steamed into Topeka, Abigail standing to stare out of the window before she suddenly started to shout excitedly.  “Cage!  Over here!”  
The vehicle had barely come to a stop when she hurtled out of the door, running over to a towering blonde man standing near the ticket office.  The cousins collected the bags and followed her.  
“Cage, this is Hannibal Heyes... and this is Kid Curry.”    
They looked up at the imposing man who was at least three inches taller than either of them.  Cage looked down at them with glacial-blue eyes.  “I wish I could say it was a pleasure.”  
Heyes and Curry exchanged a glance.  “Right back at ya,” muttered the Kid.  
Cage stared at Heyes, looking him up and down.  “So, you’re in my custody?”  
“No,” Heyes replied, coolly.  “You accompany me to vouch for my whereabouts and behaviour while I’m in Topeka.  I’m not under any kind of arrest.  I’m on parole.”  
“Cage, where are they?” demanded Abigail, clutching at his arm.  
The man’s eyes softened.  “They’re with Mayzee, Abi.  They’re safe, all of them.”    
The Kid nodded firmly.  “I’ve got to thank you, Mr. Atwater.  The Jordans mean a lot to us, and I’m engaged to Beth.  Where exactly does Mayzee live?”  
Cage’s eyes frosted over again.  “Mayzee runs a school for girls in Kansas City, Mr. Curry.  Ain’t nobody gonna think of lookin’ for them there.  There ain’t any connection between you folks and that place.”  
Heyes thrust out a hand.  “Thank you.  I owe you a lot.”  
Cage coolly observed the gesture but ignored the proffered handshake.  “Yeah, you do.  Come on, we’ve got to get you to the Pinkerton offices to sign in.  That’s what was agreed with Sheriff Jacobs, and I’m makin’ sure you stick to it.”                                      
   
          “Mrs. Stewart!  I heard you’d been away – a family illness, I believe?”  Abigail turned, smiling at the red-haired woman who accosted her as she approached the steps to her home.  “And bringing all these handsome men?”  The matron’s eyes alighted on each man in turn, before turning back to Heyes.  “Now, you must be family, those dimples are just so familiar.”  
Abigail immediately swung into good neighbour mode.  “Mrs. Adler, how good to see you.  You do look well.  Yes, an aunt had measles.  She’s much better now, thanks for asking.  I’m sorry I was away for so long, but she’s also elderly and I wanted to make sure she was quite well again, before I left.”  
Mrs. Adler was not so easily diverted from her quest for knowledge.  She stared at Heyes, raising her eyebrows in enquiry.  “Are you a relation, Mr...?”  
“Yes, on Anya... Becky’s side.”  
“Oh, the pet name.  Of course you’re related.”  She paused, waiting for an answer before deciding that delicacy was getting her nowhere.  It was time to get direct.  “Who are you?”  
Heyes smiled obstinately.  “Mr. Smith.  How nice to meet you, ma’am.”  He gestured to his companions, “and this is Mr. Jones, and Mr. Atwater.  Which is your house?”  
Mrs. Adler gestured with a gloved hand towards a shingled house down the street.  “That one; with the hydrangea bush by the gate – not that you can tell at this time of year what it is.  We wrap it in burlap for the winter, but it’s such a pretty pink in the summer.  You should see it.”  
Heyes gave her his most charming smile.  “I’m sure it’s very lovely.  We mustn’t keep you, that just wouldn’t be neighbourly in this cold weather,” he turned to go up the stairs, quickly followed by the rest of the group.  “We must catch up very soon.”    
Mrs. Adler started to walk away, turning to call up the steps to Abigail.  “I knew I had something to tell you.  I don’t think Doctor Bentham is there.  She went away in a wagon two nights ago with lots of men – very cloak and dagger.  I haven’t seen Becky, or any signs of life, since.”  
Cage cleared his throat.  “We know, ma’am.  She was picked up by the Pinkertons to look after a victim of violence – she’s on retainer you know.”  
Mrs. Adler took a step towards them.  “No, I didn’t know.  How exciting.  Is it very secret?”   
Abigail decided that enough was enough.  “No, she’s told everyone.  I’m surprised you didn’t know.  She’s been called out to treat injured Pinkertons, and prisoners, at least fifteen times in the last year.  I thought everyone knows about her contract with them.  She doesn’t like it much. Dealing with all those ruffians, but female doctors must do what they can to make a living.  Didn’t Mrs. Ellingham tell you?”  
Mrs. Adler pursed her lips and stared at the house across the road with the air of a nosey neighbour trumped.  “No.  She didn’t.  Where’s Becky?”  
“With my wife, Mrs. Adler.  We thought Mrs. Stewart could get the house warmed up before we brought her home.”  Cage turned, striding up to the door and giving Abigail a meaningful look.  “Do you have your key?”  
“Oh, and a man was looking for you.  A Mr. Adams?”  
Abigail paused, her stomach turning over.  “Adams?  What did he look like?”  
“Average height, dark brown hair, a moustache.  Does that ring any bells?”  Mrs. Adler clearly thought this was the least significant piece of information she had.   
Abigail glanced at Heyes, who noticeably stiffened.     
Abigail “I can’t say that it does.  Did he say what he wanted?”  
“No, he said he’d be in touch, though.”  
“We must meet, very soon, Mrs. Adler,” Abigail smiled.  “I bet I’ve missed loads while I’ve been away.  Are you in tomorrow?”  
“Why, yes.”  
“Excellent, I’ll call on you then.  About two?  I’d love a good chat.  I’ll bake, and bring something, shall I?”  
Mrs. Adler grinned widely; she was obviously going to be the first to get any news of the mysterious visitors and the incident with the Pinkertons.  Order had been restored in the neighbourhood.  “Absolutely.  You get settled in, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”  
“You surely don’t want to spend time with that old prattler, do you, Abi?” Heyes muttered as she turned the key in the lock.    
“Nope,” she opened the door and walked into the hallway, “but she’s one of the biggest gossips in town.  If a mouse sneezes within ten streets, she knows about it.  I need to talk to her.”  
The men followed her into the house, Heyes gazing around the hall, drinking in the minutiae of Abigail’s life; the dull ticking of the hall clock, the aspidistra beside the coat-stand, and the doorways leading off to other rooms.  His daughter ran about this house, laughing, jumping, and living life to the full.  He took a deep breath, sucking in the smell and the feel of the place until it was pressed into his memory.  
Abigail shivered.  “It’s cold in here.  Jed, can you make a fire in the living room, and I’ll get the range going?  Let’s get the curtains open too.  We need to show the world that it’s business as usual.”  
The Kid looked over at the grate.  “It needs cleaning out first – it looks like they left in a hurry and left it to burn itself out.  Just point me in the right direction for all your equipment, and I’ll get a fire goin’.”  
“Sure, in here.”  Abigail paused, touching Heyes gently on the shoulder.  “Are you alright?”  
He shook himself back to reality.  “Yeah, just thinking – being here is strange.  I dreamed about this.”  
“Is it what you thought?”  
“No.  I thought it’d be a lot grander, and bigger.”  Heyes gave a little laugh.  “I like this better.  It’s friendly – comfortable.”  
Abigail squeezed his hand.  “Thank you.  I’m glad you like it.  Her room is at the top of the stairs, if you want to see it.”  
He turned, giving her a look which could be poured over a waffle.  “Really?”  
“You can go up alone, or I can come with you, if you prefer?”  
The Kid nodded, giving Heyes a smile of reassurance.  “Go on, go and see it.”  
Heyes nodded.  “I’d like to see it alone,” he murmured.  He mounted the steps, climbing up the unlit staircase which led to the room where his both past and future played in the shadows.  “Thanks, Abi.”     
   
   
Cage had been reluctantly dispatched to buy steaks, egg, vegetables and dairy products, but he had returned quickly, having been ushered to the front of the queue in each shop, by the women who felt sorry for the man who had no woman to shop for him.   
The house was now warm and more welcoming, with fires in the rooms, bedding aired, and the smells of cooking wafting though from the kitchen.  Heyes eventually opened the door to Anya’s room and looked down over the banisters.  This was his daughter’s life; light, warmth, and love.  A glow sparked to life in him.  He had had this, and it had been ripped away from him.  That would never happen to her – he’d do whatever he could to make sure of that.  His fingers ran over the velvet surface of the floppy rabbit in his hand, and looked down at the ridiculously quizzical look on the embroidered face.  The loose threads and dangling eye betrayed years of pugnacious affection.  Did she miss this?  It had been lying on her bed.  He drew it up to his face and breathed deeply of his daughter’s essence; it smelled like Abigail, like apple pie – and something rather more questionable – but it was the most delicious smell he’d ever experienced in his life.  He balanced it, carefully arranging it in a sitting position, leaning against the newel post in a drunken, sideways slump.         
He walked downstairs, his heart light with a joy he hadn’t felt in years.  Is this where he’d live if this works out?  It was away from the Kid, but do-able, if he could build a life outside of jail, but what could he do? The idea of him and Kid starting up their own detective agency would probably have to be vetoed if things worked out the way Heyes hoped they would. Abigail was trying to keep Anya safe from ruffians, so Heyes starting up a business that would throw them into their midst would not go over well!  
Heyes walked into the kitchen, Abigail turning to smile at him over a boiling pot.  “So?  What do you think of my little home?” she asked.  
“It’s lovely,” he slipped an arm around her waist and nuzzled into her neck.  “Just like you.”  
“Thank you, Mr. Heyes.  Dinner will be about ten minutes.”  She patted his hand and turned, dropping a light kiss on his cheek.  Can you get the table laid?”  
“Sure.  Are we going to discuss our plans over dinner?”  
She nodded.  “Yes.  I thought you needed time.”  A smile twitched at the right side of her generous lips.  “Did you find it interesting?”  
His eyes glowed.  “She has lots of books.”  
“Yes, and puzzles – she like puzzles.”  
His face dimpled into a grin.  “I guess she takes after both of us.”  
Abigail shook her head.  “Mostly you...” she shrugged off the wistful air and turned back to the stove.  “Now, the table – this is nearly ready.”  
   
   
Heyes walked into the dining room to find the Kid laying the last of the silverware on the tablecloth, and Cage placing a jug of water in the centre of the table before sitting at the head, tapping his fingers.  Cage flicked up a pair of dark-blue eyes.  “Seen everything now, Mr. Heyes?” he asked, coldly.  
 Heyes narrowed his eyes before sitting at the other end of the table.  He smiled; but it was a calculating, challenging mask.  The Kid stood assessing both men.  Yup, Heyes was really getting back to his old self.  These two men seemed to be complete opposites.  Atwater was much fairer than the Kid, and with his chiselled features and high cheekbones, Kid guessed that many women found him attractive.  Atwater was now examining Heyes with a Germanic precision echoed in his looks, ready for a confrontation of some kind.  The Kid sat down between them, ready to support his partner.    
“You know Becky, Mr. Atwater?” Heyes enquired, casually.  
“Since she was a babe, Mr. Heyes.  I can sure see you in her, but she’s mostly a good child.”  
Heyes held the man’s cold, blue eyes defiantly.  “So, Abi’s told you?”      
Atwater tilted his blond head.  “Yup.  I always wondered what she saw in you.”  He sat back.  “Now I’ve met you, I wonder even more.”  
“No accounting for taste,” Heyes replied.  “I hear someone married you.”  
Atwater’s face remained impassive, refusing to rise to the jibe.  “I’m only doin’ this for Abi, and now it looks like Becky’s in danger she needs help even more.  Don’t push me, Heyes.”  
“No ‘Mister’ this time?  I don’t mind.  All my friends call me Heyes, I don’t see why you shouldn’t too.”  
The Kid’s eyes flicked back to Atwater, waiting for his response.  
“I ain’t so sure, maybe I’ll go back to ‘mister?’  I wouldn’t want to be mistaken for a friend.”  
Heyes’ eyes glittered dangerously.  “I’ll leap to conclusions, Atwater.  It saves time; I’m sure I’d have decided you were no friend once I got to know you better anyway.”  
The Kid decided that it was time to step in.  “You’re very protective of Abi, Mr. Atwater.”  
“Given who she’s gotten involved with, she needs it, Curry.”  
The Kid’s eyes gleamed.  “I ain’t on parole, Atwater.  Don’t push it.”  
Cage leaned forward.  “Look, I don’t like you two.  I spent my life tryin’ to put the likes of you away, and now you’re not only hurtin’ a good friend, you’ve put innocent women and children in danger.  I’m here for Abi , Becky, and that poor family who you sucked in to feelin’ sorry for you.”  
“Cage!” Abigail stood by the door, wiping her hands in her apron.  “A word, please.”  
Cage kept his eyes fixed on the Kid.  “I’ll be there in a minute.”  
“Now!”  
“I said, I’d be there in a minute.”  
She strode into the room, glaring at him.  “I said, ‘NOW,’ and I meant it.”  
Cage reluctantly tore his eyes away from the standoff and stood, delivering a parting glower over his shoulder to both partners.    
“It’s all goin’ well so far,” muttered the Kid, gesturing towards the hallway where hushed voices could be heard arguing.  
“I don’t suppose he has much reason to like us, Kid.  We’re going to have to put up with quite a lot of this as we settle down to a normal life.”  
“You didn’t sound too repentant, Heyes,” the Kid grinned.  “It’s good to see you gettin’ back to normal.”  
Heyes sat back, satisfaction warming his smile.  “It feels good, Kid.  I still have my moments, but I’m getting there.”  
Cage tramped back into the dining room.  “I’ve been told to tell you I’m sorry.”  
Heyes gave him a smirk.  “You’ve been told?”  
The Kid shook his head and chuckled.  “Don’t be too hard on him, Heyes.  He probably is.  We’re all sorry when we’ve been told off by Abi.”  
Cage smiled in spite of himself.  “She told me a bit of what went on in there, Heyes.  I don’t care what you did, I don’t hold with that sort of treatment.”  He sat back down.  “Don’t think that makes me happy about this, though.”  
Heyes sat back in his seat.  “Well, I don’t suppose we have to be bosom buddies.  In my experience, some friends can be worse than enemies.”    
Cage shrugged.  “That depends on the company you keep, Heyes.”  
Abigail walked in bearing a tray.  She placed it down on the table before placing serving dishes of baked potatoes, carrots and steaks in the centre of the table.  “Oh dear, I forgot the butter.  Can you pass out the warm plates while I get it?”  
“Sure will, Abi,” the Kid replied, eyeing the largest steak.  
“I take it neither of you say grace,” Cage asked.  
The ex-outlaws paused.  
“Will you give it a rest, Cage?” Abigail plunked the butter down in the table.  “The last time you uttered the word ‘Grace,’ was a when you said your sister’s full name.’”  She sat, frowning at Cage.  “What’s got into you?”  
“Just teasin’,” Cage smiled.  “I don’t mean any harm.”  
Heyes and Curry exchanged a knowing glance before the Kid reached out and stuck a fork in the steak of his dreams.  “Yeah, Abi, we can take it.”  Heyes quickly nabbed the next biggest before passing the dish to Abigail, leaving the largest man of the group the last choice of steak.  “I’m sure Cage wouldn’t dish it out if he couldn’t take it.”  
The detective’s deep-blue eyes turned to Heyes.  “Cage?  Who gave you permission to use my first name?”   
“It isn’t your first name,” grinned the Kid.  “That’s Micajah, ain’t it?”    
Heyes arched his eyebrows.  “We can call you Micajah if you prefer?”  
“Mr. Atwater.  That’s what you can call me.”  
“Nope, Cage it is.” Heyes helped himself to a potato.  “The way I see it, I’m here now, and we’ve reported to the local office.  It’s not my fault if you choose to walk out and decide not to accompany me.”  
Cage narrowed his eyes.  “I’m stickin’ around for Abi.  You don’t get rid of me that easy.”  
Abigail rolled her eyes, deciding to change the subject.  “Cage, thanks for looking after Anya and the Jordans.  I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”  She gave the partners a pointed look.  “We all have a lot to be grateful for.  Why did you get this job?  I got a message from Robert Pinkerton saying he’d assigned you and that there’d be no charge.”  
Cage gave a rueful smile.  “I’m happy to do it, but I guess he’s got no other job to give me while I work out my notice.  He can’t really use me anymore, and it looks good for morale to assign someone free of charge to look after an ex-agent’s family.”  He glanced at the ex-outlaws.  “He also doesn’t want them blabbin’ about havin’ had a deal with Hannibal Heyes to hit our competitors’ customers over ours, in exchange for us not lookin’ too hard for them two.  It works for him”    
Abigail’s brows rose in surprise.  “Your notice?”  
“I’ve gone back to writin’, Abi, and Robert Pinkerton ain’t too happy with me.  My new book lets out too many of his secrets, includin’ union breakin for big business, and vote riggin’.  He can’t use me, but he still has to pay me.  What else is he gonna do with an employee who hates the way he does business?  He’s too mean not to get somethin’ for his money, and he sure ain’t gonna pay me to sit at home writin’.”  
“You write?” Heyes asked, incredulously.  
“Yeah, Heyes, I do.  I had four books published before I became a Pinkerton.”  Cage sat back, appraising Heyes.  “I’ve got a strong accent, but I ain’t illiterate – and I ain’t stupid.  Let’s get that right out there.  My Pa was real hot on a good education, that’s why my sister runs a school.”  
“I never said you were stupid,” Heyes replied.  
“You didn’t have to.  Folks make assumptions on an accent, but I kinda figure that you’re real dumb if you pay more attention to how folk speak, than what they say.”  
“No argument there, Cage,” Heyes’ eyes warmed to the man for the first time since their meeting.  “We probably have more in common than you’d think.  Can you get me any of your books?  I’d like to read them.”  
Cage shrugged.  “Sure.  They’re all about catchin’ criminals though.  You might get nightmares.”  
Heyes glanced at Abigail.  “Nah, I don’t think so.  I’ve done my time.  I’d like to read your methods though.”  
“Speaking of which, what’s the plan?”  Abigail scanned the table.  “I don’t know anybody called Adams, and from Mr. Heyes’ reaction I’m guessing the description fits Carson.”  
“It sure does,” Heyes agreed.  “If you ask me the best thing would be for Abi to go to Kansas City and stay with the families, and we stay here and stake out the place until he shows up.  There’s nobody at the Double J. for him, so this is the next obvious place.”  
“Over my dead body,” Abigail declared.  “I’m staying.  Why would he come if there’s nobody here?  He needs to see life in the house, and comings and goings.”  
Heyes’ face hardened.  “Abi, you are not staying here as bait.  I won’t allow it.”  
She turned, staring him straight in the face.  “Two points, Mr. Heyes, first of all you don’t get to tell me what to do.  We come to an agreement based on good, old, common sense – secondly, if we don’t, we will never be able to rest as long as that man is free.  We do this; properly, professionally, and finally.  We end this matter, and get on with our lives.  If he’s here, we need to draw him out; otherwise he‘ll turn their attention back to the Jordans, and they’ll never be able to live in peace.  They can’t hide forever.  Neither can Anya.”   
Heyes’ eyes flared with determination.  “You want common sense, Abi?  I’ve seen what that man can do first-hand.  It’ll be a cold day in hell before I let him do that to you.”  
“He won’t get the chance, Mr. Heyes.  I have three of the best guns in the country to back me up, not to mention some of the most devious minds.  We outplay him, and draw him out – then we close the trap.  I spent years doing this kind of thing, and my life with Anya won’t be worth living if I don’t do it one more time.”  
“It’s real risky, Abi,” murmured the Kid.  “There’s nowhere to hide at the front to watch who’s comin’ to the door.  We won’t know until we open it.”  
She nodded.  “Sure, but we minimize the risk.  I have to be seen to be living a normal life, but I don’t go out unless I have to, and whenever I do, I’m covered.  There are four of us, and one of him.  He’s playing Parcheesi, but we’re playing chess.  He’s outnumbered, and outclassed.”  
A silence settled over the table.  Everyone knew she was right.  If this house was seen to be unoccupied, he’d turn to the Double J. again - and the Jordans had to go home eventually.  The agreement was a silent, tacit one.    
The hush was broken by Cage.  “Abi, why do you still call him Mr. Heyes?  Is that some kind of act for me?”  
Abigail gave a weak smile.  “Act?  No, Cage, I just hate his name.  ‘Hannibal?’  I just can’t call him that.  You can’t even shorten it to anything decent, like yours.”  
“Is that all?  Surely you can come up with a nickname?”  
Her lopsided smile warmed her eyes.  “What?  Like Mayzee?  Poor girl; your mother really had a knack with names, didn’t she?”  
Curiosity swarmed over Heyes’ face.  “Why?  What’s her real name?”  
“Never mind,” muttered Cage defensively.  
“No, go on, tell us,” The Kid pushed.  
“It’s Amazing Grace,” Abigail sat back with a chuckle.    
“What?  The whole thing?  Like the hymn?”  
“It was my ma’s favourite,” Cage leaned on the table, obviously embarrassed.  “She loved it.”  
“Amazing Grace!?” laughed Heyes.  “Why didn’t they just call her Grace for short?”  
“Because she liked the name so much, my older sister was already called that,” Cage sat back, folding his arms.  “She just had to get it in there again, so ‘Amazing Grace’ it was – Mayzee for short.”  
Laughter rolled around the room, uniting the company at last.    
“Man – and I thought my folks gave kids a bad name,” chortled Heyes.  
   
   
Cage handed over a thin, rectangular parcel to Abigail and dropped his hat on the kitchen table.  “Here you go, Abi, compliments of Robert Pinkerton.  I’ve also dropped in orders for deliveries of fresh food to be brought.  You ain’t shoppin’.  Visitin’ a neighbour and openin’ the door will be enough for Carson to get the idea you’re home.”  
Abigail frowned at him.  “Cage, don’t start.  I told Mr. Heyes at dinner last night that I wouldn’t be bossed around and I meant it.  I don’t work for the Pinkerton Agency anymore, and you’re not my senior officer now.”  
Cage folded his arms.  “You only have three men lookin’ out for you, Abi.  Speakin’ to the gossip’s a good idea, but I’d be happier if she was comin’ here.”  
“Me too,” the Kid stood in the doorway, his hands placed determinedly on his hips.  
“The makes three of us.” Heyes added.  “Why doesn’t one of us tell her you’ve sprained your ankle, and invite her here?”    
“Because I’d be branded a fallen woman if she thought I was here alone with three single men.”  Abigail gazed at them in turn.  “I know you’re not used to me caring about what people think, but this is Anya’s home, and these things have a way of impacting on children – especially girls.  You three were supposed to have left last night, that’s why I made Cage use the back door.”  
Heyes gave her a gentle smile.  “You’re right, we’re not used to you caring about what people think, but we’ll be quiet.  She’ll never know we’re here.”  
“I’ll go and drop a note through her door,” Cage stood.  “We can’t send these two because Carson might know them.  Does she know your writing?”  
Abigail nodded.  “Possibly, from Christmas cards.  What’ll you say if she catches you?”  
Cage shrugged.  “Anya left somethin’ behind and I dropped it off.  Get that card written and I’ll deliver it.  It’ll give me a chance to have another look around the area and see if there’s any sign of him.”  
Abigail sighed.  “I suppose so, but you’d all better make yourselves scarce while she’s here – and keep silent.”                    
“Once the door’s safely closed, I promise, Abi.”  Heyes smiled at Cage.  “You were her boss?  Tough break, huh?”  
Cage shrugged.  “I worked with her a few times, and I was in charge of the operations.  She was real professional.”  
“But challenging?”  
Cage watched Abigail disappear up the stairs with the parcel.  “She had her own ideas on how things should be done, but I gotta admit; She was usually right.”  
“Do you mind if I ask?” Heyes sat down in an easy chair.  “You said Anya and the Jordans were at your sister’s school, but you told the neighbour that they were with your wife.  Is Kansas City your home?  Does your wife run the school too?”  
Cage shook his head.  “Nope.  I ain’t got a home at the moment, which is why I’m givin’ up bein’ a Pinkerton.  I’ve gotta look after my son.”  
Heyes’ brows gathered in curiosity.  “You have a son and no home?”  
Cage’s normally guarded eyes clouded with sorrow.  “My wife died two years ago, givin’ birth.  I couldn’t look after a babe, so my sister took him until I got sorted.  It’s time.  I need to make a move for him.”  
Heyes and Curry exchanged a look.  “I’m real sorry to hear that, Cage.  Abi, said she was a friend of your wife, but she didn’t say she’d died,” murmured the Kid.  
Heyes dropped his head before he looked Cage full in the eyes.  “I made a crack last night about someone having the bad taste to marry you.  I’m sorry.  I didn’t know.  I was out of order saying that.”  
Cage moved uneasily in his chair.  “He’s been doin’ fine with Mayzee, but he’s walkin’ now, and gettin’ to the age where he needs a pa around more often than visits between jobs.  I gotta leave, and do somethin’ else.”  He stood, striding off towards the kitchen.  “I need a cup of coffee.”  
The Kid’s eyes followed Cage from the room.  “I guess he ain’t the kind to talk about things.”   
Heyes nodded.  “And even if he was, I doubt we’d be the kind of folks he’d choose, huh?”   
“I guess,” the Kid sat back, examining Heyes.  “It explains one thing though.”  
“What?”   
The Kid’s blue eyes glittered with inquisitiveness.  “Why he’s much harder on you than me.”  He watched Heyes frown.  “I didn’t attach much to it when I thought Abi was a friend of his wife, but hearin’ he’s a widower kinda puts a different slant on things, don’t it?”  
Heyes arched an eyebrow.  “I hadn’t thought of that.”  
“My guess is that he’s gonna do everything he can to make you look bad in front of Abi.  You only just got back together, and you don’t need that.  I’m gonna suggest that we split into two groups to keep watch, me and Cage on one, and you and Abi on another.  That’ll limit his chance to drip poison in her ears.”  
Heyes smiled at his partner.  “Thanks, you’re always watching my back, Kid.  It’s a good idea, and it makes sense for sleeping too.  I’ll go and tell Cage, but I’m guessing he’ll want to work with Abi.”  
The Kid shook his head and grinned.  “It doesn’t make sense to have all that Pinkerton trainin’ on the one shift, and none on the other, does it?  Best to split it - and no point on puttin’ you with Cage, not if he doesn’t like you.”        
Heyes' face dimpled into a smile.  “You seem to have thought this through, except he doesn’t like you either.”  
“Who cares?”  The Kid smiled broadly.  “Like you said last night, you’re on the way, but you still have your moments.  I’ve got your back until you’re your old self again.”      
   
   
Abigail came down wearing a skirt and blouse, covered in a voluminous knitted jacket.  “Cold?” asked Heyes, his eyebrows rising in curiosity.  
“No,” Abigail glanced around at the three men in her sitting room.  “Not any more.  I have a protection under here.  That keeps the chills away.”    
Heyes gave knowing nod.  “You’re wearing a gun?”   
She pulled the cardigan back to show a derringer.  “Underarm.  I’m taking all the help and gadgets the Pinkerton agency have to offer.  I’m wearing one of their new, silk bodices, so it’s all fairly unobtrusive.”  Abigail glanced at Cage.  “Did you deliver the note?”  
“Yup, and she nabbed me, just like you said.”  
Abigail nodded.  “I’d best get the teakettle on then, she’ll be here in a minute.”  
As if on cue, the doorbell jangled noisily in the hallway.  Abigail’s eyes widened before she composed herself.  “Well, here goes.  Let’s hope it’s not a man with a gun, huh?”  
Heyes pulled his weapon from his holster, fixing her with worried eyes.  “You don’t have to do this, Abi.”  
“I do.  We’ve already been through this.  There’s no other way.”  She steeled herself and strode towards the door, pulling her Derringer from under the knitted jacket.  Her fingers were steady as she released the door catch and turned the door handle.  Kid slid against the wall just inside the dining room; Heyes took up position on the staircase, and Cage was concealed behind the kitchen door.  
The door swung open – revealing the plump, smiling face of Mrs. Adler.  “Mrs. Stewart!  You’ve hurt your ankle?”  
Abigail leaned against the door, using it to conceal half her body as she slipped her weapon back into the holster under her arm.  “Mrs. Adler, you came?  How lovely,” Abigail limped into the hallway.  “Let me put the kettle on.”  
Mrs. Adler pushed passed her, heading for the kitchen.  “Don’t you worry, I’ll do it.”  She paused staring up at the staircase.  “What was that?”  
Abigail shrugged.  “What was what?  We’re the only ones here.  Anya’s out and Hester’s working.  I didn’t hear anything.”        
“I thought I saw movement,” Mrs. Adler shook her head.  “I guess not.  Right, you go and sit down and I’ll get the tea.”  
“And scones,” Abigail added.  “I made scones.  They’re under the cake cover on the table, along with strawberry jam.”        
Mrs. Adler tilted her head, her eyes warming.  “You made scones with a twisted ankle?  For me?  Well, just sit yourself down and let yourself be pampered.”  
She strolled into the kitchen, failing to notice the tall man ghosting into the cellar, or one of the most notorious gunmen in the West slowly closing the door to the dining room.  
   
   
 “I thought she’d never go,” muttered the Kid.  “Three hours in that dining room, with nothin’ to do, except listen to her prattle on about such and such’s new hat, or folks comin’ from poor stock.  What’s wrong with that?”  
Abigail shook her head.  “Nothing, Jed.  I come from poor farmers myself, but to her it seems more romantic because they dug in Scottish soil, rather than a homestead out here.  I don’t get it either.”  
“Well, I think we can be fairly certain that somebody fitting Carson’s description has been asking for you, and tried to find out what school Anya went to.”  Heyes' fist tightened until the knuckles turned white.  “My blood runs cold at the very thought.”  He fixed Cage with intense dark eyes while he clutched at Abigail’s hand.  “I can’t thank you enough.  What if anything had happened to her?”  
Cage stared at Abigail.  “I’m not going to let anything happen to her.  I give you my word, Abi.”  
She sat like a statue, stiff and pale on the chair, staring aimlessly into the corner.  Only the movement of her heaving chest betrayed the suppressed emotion.  “He could have got her.  We only just got them out in time...”  
Heyes stomach sank at the fragility in her voice.  “Abi, we got to her in time.  She’s safe.  We’ll do whatever we have to.  Hell, we’ll leave the country if we have to!”  
“Not while I’m lookin’ after you, you won’t,” barked Cage.  
She closed her eyes slowly, the wraith she had become after Becky’s funeral haunting her dark eyes.  “I’ll do whatever I have to – even if I have to give her up.”  
“It’ll never come to that, darlin’,” the Kid crouched down, trying to engage with her lost, wraith-like eyes.  “We’re here for you, just like I promised you.”  
Abigail sucked in a deep breath.  “I know.”  Her fingers tightened around the hands of both men.  “It just took me back there for a moment.”  She stood, raising her head.  “I can’t think about what might have happened.  Madness lies there... it’s not a place to visit.”  She rubbed her temples, forcing a smile.  “Dinner, anyone?  I made a chicken and ham pie.”  
   
   
Dinner was a subdued affair, but everyone did their best to keep the conversation light and airy, despite Abigail just playing with her food.  The Kid’s sharp, blue eyes were quick to notice the frigid rawness in Cage’s dark-blue eyes every time he looked at Heyes.  A deep mistrust still simmered between the two men, but they needed every gun they could get.  The Kid reached for another slice of pie.  They needed more men, faces unknown to Carson who could be out on the street ready for him before he approached the house.  He glanced out of the window – it was dark.  He could wander around the alleys at the back of the houses; it would be like casing a bank.  He made his mind up – after dinner that was what he would do.  If Carson was hanging around, he’d find him.    
Heyes stared at Abigail with worry swimming in his heart.  One glimpse of serious danger to Anya had revealed the vulnerabilities in a woman who had let the world see her as hard and invincible.  She needed him.  She had done this alone for too long.  He knew what it was like to have fear stalk you; dogging every footstep until it robbed your life of meaning.  He had to make this right.  He had thought it was easy for her, out there, living life with Anya, but he had been wrong.  He had lived a nightmare and had friends to bring him out of it when it ended.  Abigail had lived a nightmare which still haunted her.  He wasn’t going back to prison – he knew that now, but she never escaped hers.  That sleeping giant was always there.      
What was it she had said in one of her letters?  It had stuck with him and had played on his mind at difficult times.  'There will be a future where you will be able to walk in the sunshine and feel the warmth of a soft hand slipped into yours. I promise you that the small joys will be yours again'. Did these words resonate for him because she had identified what she had needed for so long?  He could have found her and his daughter, if he’d put his mind to it.  Why the hell hadn’t he done that?  He didn’t like the answer which came ringing back from his own conscience – he’d only been concerned with himself and his own anger.  He reached out a hand and clutched hers.  “Abi, I’m going to make this right, for you and Anya.  You’re not on your own now.”  
“Darn right she’s not,” growled Cage.  “I ain’t leavin’ this until they’re all safe.”  
Abigail sighed.  “Thank you.  Now it’s time to close the curtains in the front room.”  
Heyes frowned, his face suddenly falling as he realized the implications of the simple pronouncement.  “Abi, you can’t walk up to a window facing a darkened street with the light behind you.  You’ll be a sitting duck!”  
“That’s the idea, isn’t it?” she looked straight ahead, staring at the wall as she stood.  “Best get it over with.”   
They followed her into the hallway.  “Wait!”  The Kid started pulling on his jacket.  “Let me go out there and check out the streets before you do this.”  
She shook her head.  “You can’t.  Carson would know you because you went to the prison.  One glimpse of you and the game would be up – neither the Jordans, nor Anya and I, could ever rest again.”  
Heyes and the Kid shared a desperate look.  “Then let me sneak down the side of the house from the back – I’ll be able to see where any shot comes from at the very least,” the Kid persisted.  
Cage fixed her with determined blue eyes.  “That’s a good idea, Abi.”  
She bit her lip.  “Yes.  Do that, Jed.  We’ll have a chance at getting him then.”  
The Kid nodded.  “Give me five minutes.”  
Heyes watched her stand at the door to the sitting room, her fingers twisting in the fabric of her skirt.  “You don’t have to do this, Abi.” Heyes murmured.  “If he’s around he’ll know you’re in.  He’ll have found out from the shops and the neighbours.”  
“I do.  He has to see me himself.”  
Heyes fixed Cage with desperate eyes.  “Tell her, Cage.  This could be suicide.”  
Cage reached out and gently stroked her arm.  “I hate to say it, but he’s right.  It might take longer, but it’ll be a lot safer.”  
She glanced at Cage.  “Yes, but I want this over and done with.  I want to push him, Cage.  I want him to think that this is his chance – he won’t want to be hanging around here for days if he doesn’t have to.  Not in these temperatures.”  
Heyes simmered beside her.  “Why?  Abi, this doesn’t have to be fast.”  
She stared ahead.  “We can’t have him think that this is too much bother and move on.  We have to draw him out.  He has to think this’ll be easy.”  
Heyes clenched his fists in frustration.  “Cage, why don’t we just grab her?  This is a stupid thing to do!”  
Cage gave a withering laugh.  “Yeah, that’s your answer to everythin’, ain’t it, Heyes?  Brute force to get your way?”  
Heyes felt his anger spiral.  “For God’s sake, man.  This isn’t the time to score cheap points.  She could be killed!”  He turned back to Abigail.  “Stop staring at that door.  Why won’t you so much as look at me?”  
He felt her hand slide into his, her head fixed ahead.  “Because if I look at you, I’ll chicken out, and I can’t.  Not for the Jordans, and not for Anya.”  She pulled up his hand and kissed the knuckles gently.  “Jed will be in place by now.”  She dropped his hand.  “I’ll be back in a minute.”  
Cage and Heyes stood in the doorway and watched her stride into the room.  The oil lamps were lit, casting a golden glow over the room, making it look deceptively cozy.  She walked over to the window, looking out into the dark, unlit street.  
“Abi, just close the curtains and get away from there – stop looking out!” hissed Heyes.  
She reached over, tugging at the burgundy velvet across the window, before stretching to grasp its partner.  The rings caught on the rail, causing her to jerk at the fabric in frustration.    
“Come on....” Heyes muttered.  “Just get it done.”  
Abigail gave one last wrench and the curtain cleared from the jam and rolled over the rail to close firmly beside the other.    
She dropped like a stone, keeping her head below the line of the window sill, and crawled back over to the door.  She smiled up at the men, still on all fours as she reached the doorway.  “Don’t want to get shot after all that, do I?”  She climbed to her feet.  “Well, if he’s out there he’ll have seen that, and think I’m alone.”  She gave a rasping sigh, rubbing her face.  “I don’t think I’m going to do that again.”   
“You don’t think..!?” snapped Heyes.  “I just aged ten years”  
She stared into his eyes.  “Yes, and I think I aged about twenty.”  She reached out and caressed his angry face.  “I hope you like older women.”  
His eyes narrowed.  “Come with me, we need to talk.”  He grabbed her hand dragging her into the dining room and locking the door behind him.  “What the hell do you think you’re doing!?  We’re supposed to be partners.  Partners don’t make life and death decisions without consulting the other.”  
“They do if it’s for their own good.”  
Cage hammered on the door.  “Abi, are you alright?  Do I have to smash this door in?”  
Abigail’s eyebrows arched.  “Cage, this is my home.  Don’t you dare smash in my door!”  
“Don’t talk to him, look at me,” Heyes demanded.  
“Mr. Heyes,” she hooked him with a firm stare.  “I’m sorry, but can you look me in the eye and tell me that you never did anything like that to Jed?”  
“Yeah, I can!”  
“Let me re-phrase that,” she reached out and took his tight, angry hand, stroking it gently, bringing it up to her lips.  “Can you tell me you never put your safety at risk to meet an objective, when you know Jed would object?”  
“You’re twisting things now.”  
She smiled, worming her little finger into his hard fist before enclosing it with the rest of her hand.  “Mr. Heyes, we are parents.  We have to do all kinds of things to give them a life.  She can’t live like this.  I have to do whatever I have to – this has to end.”  
He glowered at her in challenge.  “And just how do you help a child by robbing her of her mother?  I know how that feels – you don’t.”  
She paused.  “You’re right.  I’m sorry, but I do have special underwear on.”  
“Don’t try to distract me!  This is important.”  
The Kid hammered on the door.  “Heyes, what’s goin’ on?”  
Abigail shook off Heyes' grasp and unlocked the door.  “We’re fine, he’s just annoyed at me for taking risks without his permission.”  
“Yeah?  Well, for what it’s worth, he’s quite right, Abi.”  The Kid flashed a look at Heyes.  “And now you know how it feels!”  
Abigail opened her mouth to give Heyes a retort but was cut off by a sharp, loud rap at the door.  One look at her face told them Abigail wasn’t expecting anyone.  
The dissent was forgotten; they swung into action.  Heyes stayed further up the stairwell, just out of view of the door.  The Kid swerved into the kitchen, for no other reason than it was the nearest door, and Cage stepped into the sitting room.  Abigail hoped nobody saw her gulp and headed for the door, pulling her Derringer out from her under-arm holster.  She looked around, everyone was in place.  She stood to the side of the door.  “Who’s there?”  
“Ma’am, my name is Adams.  I need to speak to Mrs. Stewart on a matter which is to her advantage.”  
“Really?” called Abigail.  “I’m sorry, but I’m alone in the house with my daughter.  Can you come back tomorrow when there will be staff in the house?”  
“Sorry, ma’am, but I have to leave town.  I need to check if you are related to a man to see if you are in line for an inheritance.”  
“What man?” Abigail demanded, keeping in character.  
“I’m sorry, but I can’t shout that in the street.  I trace relatives of unclaimed inheritances for commission.  There might be others who want the information I have.”  
Abigail glanced into the hallway, shrugging at Heyes peeking around the corner from the stairwell, and placed her hand on the latch.  She unfastened it before turning the knob, her Derringer still in her right hand.  The door opened and a man gave her a moustachioed smile.  “Mrs. Abigail Stewart?”  
“Yes,” Abigail nodded, raising her weapon behind the door.  
He smiled.  “I’ve been waiting for you.”  He raised his right arm.  Abigail was quick to react to the weapon, but she was not fast enough.  He fired, hitting her square in the chest.  The force lifted her off her feet until her body slammed back on the floor, down the hallway.  She laid there, her head lolling back, as he stepped into the house.  
“Carson!  You, bastard!” Heyes yelled, swinging out of the stairwell.  He strode towards the hated figure, firing straight at him.    
Carson ducked, the bullet smashing into the wall behind his head.  Carson fired twice more in rapid succession, driving Heyes and Cage back to their cover before he fled into the darkness.  
Heyes glanced down at Abigail’s body in the hallway, the red mist engulfing all reason as he ran into the night.  Carson was going to die.  

 

Heyes could hear Cage yelling at him, calling his name and then the Kid's demanding shout joining in on the chorus, but Heyes blocked them out; he only had one thing on his mind. He didn't care about his parole, he didn't care about staying hidden or undercover—he didn't care what the neighbours thought. All he saw was the image of his lover being thrown back against the wall and crumpling down onto the floor and all he felt was anguish! Anguish and burning hatred!  
Lamps were starting to come on from the neighbouring townhouses, doors and windows opening despite the chill of the winter's night, the occupants having been attracted by the terrifying yet thrilling sound of gunfire! Heads were bobbing and tongues wagging as Heyes ran through the layer of frozen snow out into the street.  
He got there just in time to see the tail end of Carson's horse sliding around a corner at the far end of the street and then disappearing into the night. Heyes was frantic! He can't get away from them! Not now—not after what he'd just done! Heyes' throat caught and he was suddenly strangled by a sob rising up and bursting forth. He choked it back down and frantically looked around him—looking for anything that he could use to his advantage.  
A horse sent by providence was suddenly blocking his way, nearly knocking him to the frozen ground and he yelled in frustration. The rider yelled back at him but Heyes was too far gone in his own frenzy to acknowledge or even hear what he was saying. He couldn't even hear the Kid anymore, he'd actually forgotten all about him. He'd forgotten all about everything except getting Carson into his clutches—that's all that mattered to him now.  
He reached up and grabbed the horseman who was blocking his way and gave a violent heave backwards. The man yelled in surprise and anger as he felt himself being pulled off his horse and sent sprawling onto the hard cold roadway. The horse spooked, his eyes rolling white as he jumped away from this crazed human. But his shod hooves slipped on the icy surface, and as his four feet scrambled to find their footing again, the madman had grabbed up the dangling reins and was up in the saddle before the horse had a chance to snort out it's indignation.  
The instant the human's hands made contact with the equine mouth, the horse knew to accept him as the leader. The solid pressure on the bit steadied the animal's fears and the man's strong embrace with his legs around the horse's barrel balanced him out so that he found his footing, found his direction and found his purpose. A touch of the man's heel and the horse dug his hind feet into the icy road and powered himself up to a slippery gallop that sent chips flying into the face of the enraged previous owner.  
Jed had instantly come running out the front door after Heyes, bringing his partners black hat and blue gray brown coat with him. But he was just that instant too late.  
“HEYES! STOP! WAIT!” Jed was yelling at the top of his lungs but to no avail. Heyes simply didn't hear him. “HEYES COME BACK!” But even Jed knew it was no use at this point and he began to curse and swear and threw Heyes' coat down onto the ground in a show of angry frustration. The black hat soon followed. “GODDAMITT HEYES!”  
“Where's that fella goin' with my horse!?” Jed was suddenly faced with the angry horseless equestrian. “I'll damn well get the law after him! He can't go takin' another man's horse like that...!”  
“Listen, mister; we'll get your damn horse back for ya'! Don't worry about it.” Kid was seething himself and it was all he could do to not sock this guy right in the kisser. “And if not that horse, we'll buy ya' an even better one!”  
“Well that's not the point! That's my horse! Officer! Officer, did ya' see that fella just ride off on ole' Nick? You gotta get after him!”  
“I think we got more pressing matters than your damn horse Harold!” the police officer grumbled as he and the town doctor strode purposely past them on they're way to the townhouse. Nothing like the sound of gunshots to get the officials showing up at your door.  
Jed scooped up his partners scapegoat belongings and was just about to head to the livery when that same officer suddenly turned and grabbed him by the arm.  
“Where to ya' think you're goin' young fella!?”  
“Listen, you don't understand.” Jed was frantic. “I gotta get after my partner—he's gonna get himself killed!”  
“No sir, you're not,” the policeman informed him. “You are coming right back into the house until we get all this sorted out.”  
“There's no time....!”  
“Doc!” Cage's voice bellowed from the front door of Abi's house. “Doc! C'mon! You're needed in here—now!”  
“Keep yer shirt on young fella!” the town doctor advised him. “Won't do nobody no good if I slip and break my leg on this blasted ice, now would it?”  
“C'MON!!”  
The officer was distracted by this verbal altercation only for an instant, but that instant was enough for Kid Curry to take full advantage of an opportunity given to him. He rushed forward, ploughing into the lawman and sending him sprawling on the ice with his feet desperately scrambling to keep his body upright. Kid jumped away, breaking the tenuous hold the lawman had on him and instantly made a slippery dash towards another convenient horse that was tethered a couple of doors down.  
Kid reached the blowing animal and snapped the reins loose from their mooring just as the policeman got back to his feet and fired a couple of warning shots into the air. The Kid ducked, but in so doing, lost his hold on the reins and the horse lounged away from him, slipping on the frozen road, but still managing to keep it's distance.  
“STOP!” the officer yelled after him and fired another shot in the air.  
People screamed and ducked for cover and the lawman took aim and fired another shot, this time for real after the fleeing culprit. Either the Kid was too good at swerving or the lawman just wasn't that good a shot, but whatever the reason, Jed managed to avoid injury and he scooted down a side street and then like the experienced outlaw that he was, disappeared into the cold shadows.

Heyes didn't even feel the cold as he pushed the anxious horse along the icy road in pursuit of his quarry. He could tell that Carson had come this way by the complaints and indignant body language of the numerous people who were still out on the streets that evening. Nobody was too happy about the rude intrusion of the manic on horseback and many did not hold back in their loud accusations and shaking fists directed at the second insurgent charging through their midst. Heyes had a fleeting impression of a young man assisting a woman back to her feet, and of a couple of the town dogs charging out and yapping at the heels of his horse before he had awkwardly galloped passed this group and headed onwards to deal with the next.  
He pushed the horse to move faster, but the animal was unsure of its footing and resisted the pressure from the rider's legs. Too be fair, the horse was trying his best to comply, but Karma-Lou he was not and his feet slipped and slid around him with every step of his gallop and he was snorting with distress upon every stride he took.  
The only good thing about all this was that hopefully Carson's horse was having the same difficulty and Heyes stubbornly pushed on. His eyes and nose were watering from the cold air that even this slow gallop was generating. He could feel his lungs aching with the sub zero temperatures being drawn into them, but he still kept going. Nothing short of the horse breaking a leg was going to stop him—nothing else mattered.  
He pushed the horse onwards and they galloped down the street with Heyes constantly wiping the tears from his eyes so that he could see not only where they were going, but where Carson was going. More than once Heyes felt desperation take hold when he thought that he had lost his quarry and that Carson managed to disappear into the darkness and the night. But then irritated pedestrians would catch his eye, or a dog barking indignantly down a side street would put the ex-outlaw onto the man's trail again.  
Down side streets, around corners, through back alleys; Heyes was getting frustrated at how big this town—or city really was and he wondered if they were ever going to get out of the busy residential and small business areas. On the other hand, the well lit street lamps, plus the reflected light from the snow gave him more visibility than he would be getting from the quieter back streets, so he thanked the powers that be for small blessings and pushed onwards.  
He knew he was catching up to Carson! When this chase began he was having to depend on reactions from other people (and dogs) to keep on track but now, as he peered ahead he could make out another horse no more than a block ahead of him. That animal was struggling more than Heyes' horse was with the slippery and treacherous conditions of the roadway. Heyes could see it scrambling, see it's hind legs slip out from under him every time he manoeuvred around a corner.  
Carson was making the mistake of pushing the animal too hard, trying to get more speed out of it than was physically possible under these conditions. The horse was trying desperately to move faster, to get away from the gouging spurs and the whip of the reins lashing against it's rump, but the harder the animal tried to power away from the abuse, the more its feet scrambled on the ice and the slower he actually covered the ground.  
Heyes kept steady pressure with his legs and a consistent hold on the reins, encouraging his horse to move fast, but also supporting him and helping him to stay on his feet so that they could actually begin to close the gap between pursued and pursuer.  
Then they were leaving the busier sections of the town behind them and the footing became more snow than ice and both horses were able to pick up some speed. The street lamps were becoming fewer and further between, but the snow stole away the darkness of the night and Heyes had a clear view of Carson riding ahead of him. They were catching up, he knew it—just a little bit longer, a little bit more speed....  
They came around another corner and suddenly all was quiet. No Carson. Heyes reluctantly pulled up in order to get a more accurate scan of the area, and to listen for anything, any sound at all that would give him a direction to go in. Snow had started to fall and it brought with it a quiet muffling of any sounds that might have been coming his way. He sat his horse waiting, stock still and listening into the silence of the night and through the veil of the snowflakes.  
The horse was sweating from the exertion, steam rising from its body into the cold night air. He was breathing heavily, great puffs of warm exhausted breath blowing from its nostrils to mingle with the steam and rise up into the night sky. Heyes could also see his own breath in front of him, but despite the exertion, he wasn't sweating. He was shivering with the cold and his hands were going numb to the point where he could hardly hold the reins, but he didn't care. His teeth chattered a little bit but he remained still and silent, listening for anything at all.  
Finally he pulled his gun from its holster and nudged the horse forward at a walk, scanning the ground in front of him for hoof prints in the snow. Unfortunately the snow wasn't deep enough to hold much of a print especially in this failing light and now with more snow falling visibility was getting difficult. Heyes felt a desperation come over him! He couldn't lose him now...he had to be here—somewhere!  
He kept moving forward, listening and hearing nothing, until all of a sudden he was hearing too much! To his right—from that side alley—a horse grunting! Then the soft scrambling of hooves trying to make purchase in the snow! Heyes turned his horse towards the sound and brought his gun up to aim in that direction, but he was too late! He caught a quick glimpse of Carson's grinning face and the white rimmed eyes of the horse coming at them and then they collided!  
Heyes felt his own horse grunt and then shudder under the impact! The collision was hard, hitting his horse full on in the chest and he felt the animal rear up and then the hind legs slip out from under him. There was nothing Heyes could do as he felt his horse land hard on it's rump and then begin to fall over backwards! He tried to jump out of the way so as not to get crushed beneath the animal but then Carson's horse was jumping over them and all Heyes saw was a pair of equine knees coming at him! He felt the impact, hitting him mostly in the chest and right shoulder, knocking the wind out of him, but also knocking him away from his own falling horse so that he ended up landing hard on his back in the layer of snow.  
He was winded and non-responsive for half a moment, hearing his own horse crashing down beside him and then frantically scrambling to it's feet, sending a shower of snow and ice crystals over top of it's previous rider. Heyes told himself he had to move! He had to get on his feet—and where the hell did his gun go!? He got to his knees and turned just in time to make a frantic leap out of the way as Carson's horse came galloping back at him! He sprawled face first into the snow and then rolled and was on his feet in an instant and turning to face his adversary.  
Carson was in the process of stopping and then turning his anxious horse and despite the animal slipping with every kick, they were coming at Heyes again, as fast as the conditions would allow. Heyes didn't wait for them but took off at a run, straight towards them and then just as Heyes and the horse were about to collide, Heyes jumped up, taking hold of the bridle with one hand and a fistful of mane with the other! He tucked his knees and then with all his weight, he dropped down, pulling the horse's head around and down with him.  
Under normal circumstances the weight of a man would be nothing compared to the strength of a horse's neck, but having been caught by surprise and then along with the slippery conditions underfoot, the horse's front feet went out from under him and he over-balanced, causing him to topple over and come crashing to the ground with an indignant grunt.  
Heyes landed on his feet and got out of the way of the wreck. Carson hit hard with his right leg getting caught underneath the horse as it pitched onto it's side. Carson cursed, batting at the horse to get off of him and the horse, not really needing any encouragement, quickly scrambled to it's feet and got the hell out of there. Enough was enough, already!!   
Carson was on his feet in an instant, but Heyes was onto him just as fast grabbing for his throat and cursing him as a cowardly murderer! But unlike Harris, Carson was no fool and he had been trained as a prison guard to be able to handle himself in close quarters; he understood hand to hand combat. His arm was up in an instant and it shot out like a pile driver, hitting Heyes in the face with the bottom of his palm. He'd been aiming to break Heyes' nose but even though he missed that target, the blow was enough to stop Heyes in his tracks and send him sprawling backwards. Heyes managed to stay upright and then he stood, his feet planted far apart and bending over with his hands on his knees. He was breathing heavily, taking in great gulps of cold air and sending out more warm mist from his lungs. Blood was starting to seep from his right nostril but his eyes were fixed on the hated man who was standing there, grinning at him; his intent clear.  
Carson continued to grin at him, but it came off more like a snarl. “What's the matter Heyes?” he goaded the other man. “You've been waiting five years for this. Don't tell me you're a coward after all.”  
Heyes was getting his breath back and he stood up straight, his dark eyes still fixed upon his enemy. He didn't say anything, there was no need to; both men knew this was it—there was a fight coming and slowly they began to circle one another. Both of them were looking for a weakness, a way in past the others' defences. Heyes noted that Carson was favouring his right leg—probably not broken, but still badly bruised from the horse landing on it. Carson noted that Heyes was shivering, numb from the cold and possibly his reaction time might be slowed down because of it. They continued to circle.  
“C'mon Heyes! Make your move. What the hell are you waiting for!?”  
Again Heyes didn't answer him, but held him down in his gaze and continued to circle. Then Carson slipped and cursed as pain shot up his injured leg and that was when Heyes charged him. They crashed together and went down, Heyes' hands around Carson's throat, his lips pulled back in his own snarl as he sought to wring the life out of his enemy. Carson was bigger than Heyes, both taller and heavier—and stronger! He got one hand up under Heyes' chin and began to push him back and then with his other hand he landed a stunning blow to the side of the ex-convicts head.  
Heyes grunted and lost his hold. Carson pushed him off to the side and was on his feet again in an instant, then he kicked at Heyes and landed a solid blow to his midriff. Heyes gasped and clutching his torso, tried to scramble to his knees to avoid getting kicked again but then Carson lost his balance and almost went down himself when his injured leg refused to support him. He grabbed hold of the hitching rail in order to remain on his feet which gave Heyes enough time for himself to get upright again.  
And there they stood once more; hearts pounding, respiration's soaring, eyes full of hatred, glaring at each other.  
“You fucking bastard....” Heyes finally cursed him in a strained whisper. “You killed her...why...!? His voice caught for an instant and Carson grinned. Heyes saw it and refusing to let him win, forced himself to regain control. “Why? Was it just to get back at me? All of this bullshit...was it just to get back at me?”  
Carson laughed in his face. “What an ego you have!” he accused his antagonist. “Everything's gotta be all about you, doesn't it?”  
Heyes looked confused. “THEN WHY!? You hired Harris to kill Beth Jordan. Ya' arranged that whole prison break just to get rid of me and Kenny! Ya' killed Doc too didn't ya'--you bastard!”  
Carson sneered and shook his head in disgust. “That Harris—what a momma's boy! I knew he'd crack under the pressure. But like I said Heyes; it ain't about you. I didn't hire anyone to do anything. Harris doesn't have a clue who hired him; keep these bloody idiots in the dark, that's what I say. For all your efforts, Harris gave you bad information. He doesn't know a thing.”  
“Then who? Who's behind all this?”  
Carson shook his head. “Oh no. You're not gonna crack me like you did Harris. What did ya' do Heyes? Threaten to hang him from the ceiling? That was a fun day, wasn't it?”  
Heyes' lip tightened over his teeth, it was all he could do to stay in control. Carson saw him struggling and with a malicious smile, raised his hands and motioned to Heyes to come to him.  
“C'mon Heyes,” he said, beckoning him forward. “show me what ya' got.”  
Heyes roared and charged! He was onto Carson in an instant, but he bent low, grabbed Carson's good leg and heaved him up and over the hitching rail. Carson flipped over and landed hard on his back and then Heyes ducked down under the railing and was on top of him, reigning blow after blow onto his face. Carson bellowed in anger and then heaved himself up and once again, bowled Heyes over and off of him.  
Then the tables were turned and it was Carson who was on top, punching at Heyes' face. But Heyes got his arms up, protecting his head and began to squirm and twist in an effort to dislodge his assailant. It didn't look like Heyes was going to have much luck in getting away from the blows, but Carson's injured leg wasn't doing him any favours and the constant battering it was taking from Heyes' bucking began to loosen its hold.  
Heyes was finally able to get Carson off balance and then twisting one more time, he sat up and sent a right hook into Carson's jaw. The ex-guard was knocked over to the side and Heyes made a grab for his throat again but again Carson blocked him and shoved him away. Both men scrambled to their feet but Heyes didn't hesitate this time and came at him again, pushing him up against the wall of the abandoned building.  
Carson fought him, the two men then locked in a silent battle for supremacy, each one struggling desperately for the upper hand. Heyes got his arm across Carson's throat and started to lean into it, putting all his weight behind it and Carson really began to struggle then as the air was blocked from getting to his lungs. Then his right hand came up and he started hitting Heyes across the face and was finally able to push himself back up off the wall. He went at Heyes, his face a picture of rage and Heyes scrambled backwards until he was up against the hitching rail and couldn't go any further.  
He swung out desperately, catching Carson a stunning blow across the head. Carson staggered and backed up a step or two, shaking his head to try and clear the ringing. Heyes took the opportunity to ducked back under the rail again, getting himself on the other side of it and taking a moment to catch his breath. Carson straightened up and then stood and glared over at Heyes, but both men were winded and neither one made a move for the other just yet.  
“Ya' killed Doc, didn't ya'?” Heyes just finally had to ask between gasps. “Didn't ya'?”  
Carson sneered at him. “The record clearly states that Boeman killed Dr. Morin.”   
“Don't give me that bullshit!” Heyes spit blood. “You did it!”  
Carson stood silently for a moment and then a wicked smile spread across his face. “Yeah, why not?” he agreed. “There's nobody else around to hear this, so yeah Heyes; I killed him. You feel better now?”  
“You bastard! YOU BASTARD! I'll see you hang for that!”  
“No you won't Heyes,” Carson snarked at him. “You got no proof and nobody's gonna just take your word for it. You've been pushing too hard to get people to believe ya' simply based on your own delusions! They're sure not gonna believe ya' now.”  
Heyes was breathing heavy with emotion, his anger and hurt rising up and threatening to choke him. “Why!?” he asked again. “Why would you do that!?”  
Carson's grin broadened. “Because it felt good,” he admitted. “You should have seen him Heyes; laying on the floor in his own blood. He knew. He knew as soon as he saw me that he was gonna die right there in his own infirmary. I grabbed that pillow and walked over to him and the fear in his eyes was beautiful. He actually started begging with me to spare his miserable life. Ha! He didn't mind calling me every nasty name in the book when he thought he had the upper hand but as soon as the tables were turned, he actually begged me to show mercy! Oh, it felt good Heyes. It felt so good to push that pillow down over his foul mouth and suffocate the life out of him. What a shame you missed it.”  
“You bastard!” Heyes was gasping for air, almost sobbing with his rage. “You'll pay for it! One way or another! I might not be able to prove that you killed Doc, but there were three witnesses here tonight who saw you shoot Abi! You'll hang for that Carson—you bastard!! YOU'LL HANG FOR THAT!”  
“Yeah,” Carson nodded quietly. “I'm afraid you're right Heyes. If they catch me, that is. I have no intentions of being caught.”  
“You got no choice,” Heyes spit at him. “I've got friends coming—they'll be here any minute, and there's no way I'm letting you leave.”  
Carson sighed, feigning regret. “I'm afraid you're right about your friends. I expect they will be along shortly so enough of this bullshit. I didn't want to do this before, since the noise would attract unwanted attention, but seeing as how time is running short....” Carson unsnapped his gun from it's holster and quickly drew the weapon. He cocked the hammer and aimed the muzzle straight at Heyes. “....the sound of a gunshot at this point is hardly going to matter.”  
Heyes froze, a chill settling over him that had nothing to do with the temperatures.  
Carson sneered at him. “Say 'hello' to the Doc for me.” And he squeezed the trigger.  
The gun clicked on empty.  
The two men sent surprised glances at each other over top of the weapon then Heyes was on the move! He charged, doubled over and scrambling under the hitching rail one more time, he tackled Carson with a vengeance! Carson raised the hand gun in preparation of bringing it down on Heyes' skull but Heyes got in under his defences and the battle was on for possession!   
Heyes grabbed at Carson's right hand, trying to break his grip on the weapon, but the guard hung onto it for all he was worth! They struggled silently, every muscle straining for control when finally Carson broke the stalemate and twisted himself free from Heyes' grasp. Then in one fluid motion, he changed the direction of his twist and brought the gun down against Heyes' head.  
Heyes gasped and staggered backwards, holding his head where the hard metal had split the skin and blood was starting to pour forth. He turned and ran out into the street, clutching his head and trying desperately to stay on his feet. He could see blood dripping down into the snow, looking like black ink drops that splattered and then spread out into the whiteness and creating strange blotted patterns that Heyes fleetingly thought must have some significant meaning.  
Then he felt himself being shoved from behind and he staggered forward and ended up sprawling face first into the snow. He rolled over onto his back just in time to see Carson aim the gun again and pull the trigger. This time the hammer hit a loaded chamber and the gun went off with a flash and a loud report but Heyes twisted over just in time and the bullet hit right next to his face, sending up a shower of snow and ice and causing Heyes' ears to ring.  
Then he was on his feet and charging at Carson, he doubled over again, but this time it was to grab a handful of snow and throw it into his adversary's face before that man had a chance to get off another shot! They were locked into another silent, physical struggle to get possession of the gun. It seemed as though both men had their hands on it, but neither one could get it away from the other. Heyes didn't even know which way the muzzle was pointing, he couldn't see it, he could just feel it—the cold hard metal in his hands competing with the warmer, soft flesh of his nemesis; both of them fighting, desperate to win out.  
Heyes could feel Carson's hot breath against his face, feel his heart beating, his blood pumping and then wondered inside himself if it was actually his own heart beating that he could feel, his own blood pumping. He grunted with the strain, determined to not relinquish his hold. It appeared that the two men were again in a stalemate; neither one prepared to back down, neither one giving in to the other.  
Then Heyes felt the hammer of the gun pressing painfully into the soft palm of his right hand. It was digging into the flesh, but he refused to give it up. Instead he pushed his palm into the hammer even harder and didn't allow his brain to acknowledge the pain of it digging in deeper. He still didn't know which way the muzzle was pointing, but he was beyond caring; his lover, the mother of his children was dead and if he couldn't bring her killer to justice then he was more than willing to die in the effort!  
Finally, through the haze of pain he felt the hammer click back and he prayed that there was just one more bullet left in the chamber—just one more to end this struggle one way or another.  
Carson knew what Heyes was up to and fought all the harder to get the weapon back under his control but Heyes would not relinquish it and he held on like a madman. He could no longer feel the pain, no longer taste the blood. The cold of the night had turned into the heat of battle and he fought like the devil himself to get his finger around the trigger.   
And then the gun went off.

 

“CURRY! CURRY, WAIT! WILL YOU STOP!?”  
Jed snarled to himself, but reluctantly pulled his 'borrowed' horse to a halt and turned him around to face his persistent pursuer.  
“I CAN'T WAIT!” he shouted back to the approaching horseman. “Heyes could be in trouble! Actually, knowing him; he is in trouble!”  
“Just...hold up a minute!” Cage pulled up beside him, breathing heavily with the exertion of trying to catch up with the stubborn horseman. “Abi's not dead!”  
Jed's mouth dropped open as he stared incredulous eyes at the Pinkerton man. “What do ya' mean; she's not dead!? I saw her get hit full in the chest! YOU saw her! How could she still be alive!?”  
“She was wearing bullet proof clothing under her dress,” Cage explained. “She's hurt; the bullet caused a lot of bruising, maybe even broke a rib. But she's alive Curry. She's alive!”  
“Bullet proof clothing!?” Jed repeated as though Cage had just told him that horses could fly. “You have such a thing!?”  
“Yeah,” Cage informed him. “It's pretty effective too. Not very comfortable, but effective.”  
“Geesh,” Jed shook his head. “We sure coulda used that in our previous professions.”  
Cage smiled. “Yeah, well that's why they were kept secret—to keep them out of the hands of people in your 'previous profession!”  
Jed slumped against his saddle horn in relief. “Abi's alive,” he repeated as though he still couldn't quite believe it. Then his face tightened and he straightened up again, his horse tensing with the changing of his mood. “All the more reason that I havta' find Heyes!”  
“Wait for re-reinforcements Curry! You don't know.....”  
But Jed had pulled his horse around and pushed him back up to a tentative gallop not being in the mood to hang around and wait for anybody.  
“Oh crap!” Cage cursed, and then pushed his own horse back into the gallop and followed in the ex-outlaw's wake.

Jed galloped on into the cold night, keeping himself to the middle of the streets where there seemed to be more snow than ice that gave his horse a little bit better footing. He really didn't know where he was going or even if he was on the right track, but this is the direction Heyes was going in when Kid last saw him, so until indicated otherwise, this was the direction he went.  
He noticed people on the boardwalks, talking in groups and some shaking their heads and to Jed this was a strong clue that his partner and Carson had passed this way. Kid pushed his horse onwards until they came to an intersection and there was nothing to hint at which direction they had gone. He pulled the horse up and angled over to a group of gentlemen walking along the boardwalk.  
“Excuse me!” he called over to them. “Did you folks see a rider gallop past here? Maybe two?”  
The gentlemen all looked around at one another, shaking their heads and shrugging. “No. Anyone would be a fool to gallop a horse on these roads!”  
Jed slumped in disappointment. “So none of ya' saw anyone?”  
“That's right son,” said one of the older gentlemen. “Nobody like that.”  
“I did!” came a small voice from behind the group.  
The men all looked around and then parted the way to expose a couple of ragamuffins who had just finished picking the pockets of the gentlemen standing in front of them. The gentlemen were totally oblivious—for the time being. Jed smiled knowingly. Then got down to the business at hand.  
“You boys saw a couple of riders go by here—at a fast gallop?”  
“Sure did!” piped up the older of the two. “Not a fast gallop though, but you could still tell they was both in a hurry.”  
“Which way did they go?”  
“How much's it worth to ya'?”  
Jed smiled, despite his urgency and digging into his pocket he pulled out a fifty cent piece. The eyes belonging to both boys lit up with disbelief. “Is that enough for ya'?”  
“Yessir!” the oldest boy stepped forward, holding out his hand.  
“Ah ah,” Jed shook his head and held the coin up, out of reach. “Which way.”  
Both boys instantly pointed down the right hand street and then the eldest held out his hand again. Jed nudged his horse closer and placed the coin in his up stretched palm.  
“There ya' go,” he said. “Careful how ya' spend it.”  
“Yessir!”  
“Thank you, sir!”  
And they scurried off down the boardwalk with their absconded with wallets and their honest coin.  
Curry was pulling his horse's head around just as Cage caught up with him. They locked eyes for an instant and then without a word they both pushed up to a slippery gallop again and headed off to the right.  
Jed was getting more and more anxious as time went on. They hadn't heard any gunshots, nothing to indicate that Heyes had caught up with Carson, so how far was this chase going to lead them? Was Heyes galloping himself right into a trap? Jed couldn't help but remember the last time Heyes had taken off on his own after a killer and how he'd almost paid for it with his life. Now here he had gone and done it again! Dammit! Didn't Heyes know he was suppose to wait for Kid? How was Jed gonna watch his back if he kept on insisting on galloping away half cocked and not waiting for his partner to be there for him?   
Heyes just wasn't thinking right these days! Right after he got out of that prison he was afraid to make any move at all—afraid to make any decisions for himself. Now he was just acting on impulse' grabbing the bull by the horns and not caring where the chips would fall! He was going to get himself killed doing stuff like this! But then Heyes thought Abi was dead, so maybe he didn't care if he got himself killed. Oh dammit! Kid pushed his stressed out horse even harder and they galloped on.  
Then it began to snow. Just lightly at first, as is usually the case but then the flakes became bigger and heavier and the two men pushed on through white softness drifting down around them. They came to another intersection and another decision to make. The streets were quiet now, actually peaceful with the snow coming down but Jed and Cage pulled up and stood, just as Heyes had done; stood still and listened for anything to come to them.  
Both horses were breathing heavily and steam was rising off their bodies and all of them peered into the whiteness of the night and listened. Then the ears of the horses pricked up and Cage's animal sent out a loud whinny, it's whole body vibrating with the intensity of it. The two men followed the gazes of the two horses down one of the side streets and they listened, trying to pick up anything on the cold night air.  
Then they heard it. Muffled and distant with the snow, but definitely the jingle of a horse's bit and the squeak of saddle leather. Then finally out of the flurry of snowflakes, a riderless horse emerged from the shadows, and with a snort of relief, trotted over to join up with his like kind.  
The two men exchanged relieved glances and again, without a word pushed the horses down the side street and carried on. The riderless horse, though not pleased about returning to the scene of the battle did so anyways in order to stay with the group. Then Jed cursed and his horse reared in surprise as another riderless animal came galloping and sliding into their midst and then skidded into the group!  
Both Jed and Cage had their hands full for a moment, getting their own horses under control and trying to stay out of the way of the two skittish loose ones. The second horse snorted and tried to pivot around this group, wanting to get as far away from his abusive handler as he could. He forgot about the slippery footing though and his feet whisked out from under him and for the second time that evening, he went down in a crashing, indignant heap!  
Cage cursed as he pulled his own horse around in an effort to get away from the thrashing hooves of the downed animal while at the same time, his horse was doing his level best to also avoid being kicked. He jumped to the side and then slipped himself and went down to his knees. Cage managed to stay in the saddle though, and the horse quickly righted himself and blew indignant mist into the cold air as he got himself back in form.  
Carson's horse scrambled to it's feet and without a backwards glance dug in his hind hooves and took off at an awkward gallop back towards the main part of town. Heyes' borrowed animal, now given the option of having company going in the direction he really wanted to go in, also turned tail and took off after his new found buddy.  
Jed and Cage didn't even bother to exchange looks this time, but got their horses in order and headed down the side street as quickly as conditions allowed. They carried on this way for about another ten minutes and were beginning to get worried again that they had lost the scent. They both scanned the road ahead of them but with the snow coming down, any tracks that might have been there from the fleeing horses were quickly being covered up by the darkness of night and the blanket of white.  
They both pulled up again, stopping and listening and hearing nothing.  
And then the gun went off.  
All four of them jumped at the sudden sound and then Jed cursed and forgetting all caution, booted his horse forward as fast as he could make it go. Cage was right on his heels, getting ready for anything and peering ahead of them, straining to catch sight of movement in the swirling mist. Then out of the dancing snowflakes, Jed saw him. A shadowy figure of a man staggering towards them, falling to his knees then getting up again and continuing on.  
Cage came up level with the Kid and pulled his gun. Jed reached out and grabbed his arm.  
“NO, put it away!” he yelled at the Pinkerton man. “It's Heyes!”  
“How can you tell!? We can barely see him!”  
Jed sent him an exasperated look as he quickly dismounted. “He's my cousin! I can tell!!”  
Jed ran towards the staggering man, the features of his cousin becoming more and more defined through the snowflakes as he got closer.  
“Heyes! Heyes!” Jed called out to him as he approached. “It's me; The Kid.”  
“Kid....?” came the muffled whisper.  
“Yeah Heyes,” Jed confirmed quietly, taking his cousin by the shoulders and peering into his clouded eyes. “It's me Heyes.”  
“I got 'em Kid,” Heyes informed him. “I got Carson....”  
Jed looked over Heyes' shoulder to the prone form laying on the ground, the snow gradually putting down a blanket of white over top of it. “Yeah, I can see that Heyes. You got him alright.” Then Jed turned back to the Pinkerton man. “Bring me his jacket Cage! He's freezing!”  
“He admitted it Kid...” Heyes mumbled, almost as though he were fighting sleep.  
“What?”  
“He admitted to killing the Doc,” Heyes' voice broke in a sob and though he fought to control it, his eyes were full of anguish as he turned them towards the Kid. “If only they'd listened to me....if they'd listened to me and stopped him sooner, then Abi would still be.....”  
“No, Heyes...” Kid squeezed his shoulders. “Abi's alive!”  
The anguish in Heyes' eyes was suddenly mixed with disbelief. “What...?'  
“That's right Heyes,” Cage confirmed it as he approached the pair and threw Heyes' coat across his shoulders and then put his black hat onto his head. Heyes cringed slightly at the pain these actions caused him. “She's battered and bruised, but she's alive. The doctor is staying with her for now.”  
“But...” Heyes looked from one to the other of them. “How...? I saw her get shot.”  
“She was wearin' some new fangled contraption,” Kid explained. “Some kind 'a bullet proof underwear or somethin'! I ain't never heard of such a thing.”  
Heyes swayed but still stared at the Kid with his mouth open and a confused look to his dazed eyes and then he turned the look over to Cage. Cage smiled and nodded affirmation.  
“We've had them for sometime now,” he confirmed. “Still working out some of the kinks, but usually they'll stop a bullet in it's tracks.”  
“Geesh.”  
Jed laughed. “Yeah, that's what I said.” And he gave his cousin a pat on the chest.  
Heyes sucked his teeth and tensed up.  
“What?” Jed asked, suddenly concerned. “You hurt Heyes, you get shot?”  
“No, not shot,” Heyes slurred. “Carson and I were...fighting, trying to get control of the gun. I was right up against it when it went off. I think I got burned.”  
“Ah jeez, Heyes....”  
Jed took a closer look at his cousin then and he noticed that a patch on the front of his shirt was burned away and what appeared to be powder burns were singed along his upper chest and throat. Jed sucked in a breath and went to touch the injuries, but then thought better of it; they were probably sore enough.  
“C'mon Heyes, let's get you back so the Doc can have a look at ya'.”  
“Okay.”  
But then, just as they were about to head back to the horses, those same horses suddenly spooked and jumped forward, their eyes showing white and their nostrils blowing. Out of the snow they heard and then almost immediately saw four horsemen coming at them and looking like they meant business. Even through the falling snow Jed could see badges indicating law enforcement and guns were being drawn and orders were being thrown out at them.  
“Hold it right there!”   
“Don't anybody move! Get your hands up!”  
Jed briefly thought about pointing out that they couldn't possibly put their hands up if they weren't allowed to move, but then just as quickly vetoed that. This was not the time to get smart. Then he felt Heyes tense up beside him, and his cousin started to back up.  
“No....” Heyes whispered. “No...I can't go back....”  
“Heyes, wait!” Jed quickly grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks. “Heyes, stop. It's alright.”  
Heyes turned terrified eyes towards the approaching lawmen and shook his head. “I can't go back to prison...I can't....”  
“It's alright Heyes,” Jed repeated. “You haven't done anything wrong.”  
“I'll be the judge of that!” the inspector informed them as he approached the group. “What in the world is going on here?” Then he recognized Jed. “And you! What's the big idea of assaulting a police officer!? The whole lot of ya' are under arrest! And what's that lump over there, under the snow?”  
“Officer, there's been a misunderstanding,” Cage put in.  
The inspector sent him an incredulous look as his juniors headed over to inspect the battle ground. “Really?” he sniped. “How do you figure that?”  
“My name is Micajah Atwater....”  
“Micajah!? What the hell kind of a name is that!?” the inspector was incredulous.  
Cage's jaw tightened with irritation, but he got over it. “Please stay focused Inspector.”  
The inspector put his hands on his hips and was about to give this young arrogant little...a piece of his mind and he didn't care how big he was. But Cage's next words stopped him in his tracks.  
“I'm an agent with Pinkertons,” Cage informed him. “I'm sure you've heard of us.”  
“Of course,” the inspector was indignant. “But let's see ya' prove it!”  
“That won't be a problem,” Cage assured him. “If I may take out my wallet, I'll be quite happy to show you my credentials.”  
The inspector nodded. “Fine, but do it slow. If I see anything that looks like a gun coming outa there you'll be the one in trouble. You understand?”  
Cage smiled and nodded. He carefully opened up his coat and reached inside and then retracting his hand again, he handed over the leather wallet to the policeman. That individual took it and opening it up carefully examined the contents. Finally he nodded and handed the case back to its owner.  
“Fine,” he conceded. “You're Pinkertons. So how about you explain what's going on here? You can begin with why I shouldn't arrest HIM for assaulting an officer, and HIM for stealin' a horse...” he glanced over Heyes' shoulder as his men uncovered and rolled over a dead body. “....and perhaps one or two other things.”  
Heyes groaned as he swayed. Jed kept hold of his arm to keep him upright just as much as to keep him from running.  
“That man over there,” Cage pointed over to the lump of carrion that had formally been known as Carson. “was a suspect in a murder up in Wyoming among others and he attempted to kill one of my agents just this evening. You were there, Inspector, you heard the shots.” The officer nodded. “These men only did what they had to do in the performance of their duty. We could not let that man get away from us—not at any cost. He was very dangerous. They did nothing that you yourself would not have done in an effort to apprehend a suspect in a murder case.”  
“Well....” the inspector considered this. “I suppose.”  
“Indeed,” Cage continued, warming to his subject. “Instead of arresting these two gentlemen, you should be thanking them! That corpse used to be a very dangerous man and my associate here risked his own life in order to apprehend him. He should be awarded for his bravery and his selflessness instead of being treated like some common bank robber.”  
Kid sent Cage a warning look with that last statement. Let's not push our luck here. Cage ignored him.  
“Well, I suppose that does make sense,” the inspector acquiesced. “But I still want a complete report from all of ya' before you leave town. Understand?”  
“By all means, Inspector,” Cage agreed.  
“Yessir officer,” Jed echoed.  
Heyes just stood and swayed, looking totally bewildered. First Abi was dead, then she's not. Then he was going to be arrested and taken back to prison, but now he's up for an award? None of this made any sense! Then his mind latched onto one of the things that did make sense.  
“I lost my gun,” he mumbled.  
“What?” Jed was taken by surprise. He was still trying to wrap his brain around what had just happened.  
“I lost my gun,” Heyes repeated and then gave a wobbly wave that encompassed the whole battle field. “in the snow.”  
“Oh,” Jed looked at the blanket of white covering the ground and his heart sank. “I'd say chances aren't too good of finding it before spring.”  
“Oh,” Heyes sounded disappointed.  
Then a yell went up from one of the junior officers as he turned his ankle on some hard object that had been covered up and completely hidden beneath the white carpet.   
“Goddammit!” he cursed and reaching down, he picked up Heyes' hand gun.  
Jed smiled. “But, then again....”  
“Kid?” Heyes breathed a whisper.  
“Yeah Heyes?”  
“I think I'm gonna pass out now.”  
And then without further adieu, Heyes' legs melted out from under him and he dropped down into the snow despite Jed and Cage's attempts to catch his fall.

Black canopy with white specks drifting down and swirling around. Nose is cold. Breathing in; freshness to the air. Soft and wet landing on eyelids, causing them to blink. So peaceful. Maybe he could just stay here, so soft and comforting. Then, of course; a whiff of pain seeped into his consciousness and slowly it began to grow until his mind was filled with it and then it started to ooze out and to encompass every aspect of his body. It moved in ever increasing waves down from his shoulders, into his arms and to his fingertips. Then through his torso and into his legs and then all he felt was cold.  
Jed's worried face put in an appearance, those blue eyes gazing down at him, blocking out the black night and whirling white. Heyes blinked again and licked his dry cold lips.  
“Heyes?” Jed's voice made its way through the thick blanket. “You awake Heyes?”  
He tried to speak but nothing came out, so he just nodded. It was an automatic response really since he wasn't sure if he was awake. Jed's worried eyes took on a relieved glow and he smiled a sigh of relief.  
“Thank goodness,” he said. “You had me real worried there. How the hell were we gonna get ya' back to Abi's place?”  
Heyes tried to speak again, coughed and wet his lips and tried one more time. “Abi?”  
“Yeah,” Kid confirmed, then took hold of Heyes' arm and pulled him up to a sitting position, Heyes felt his head spin. “Let's get you back to Abi's. Hopefully the Doc is still there.” Then Jed looked concerned again as he saw his partner's eyes swoon. “You sure you're alright Heyes? Think you can ride?”  
“Ride?”  
“Yeah, you know; on a horse.”  
“Oh. Ahh....”  
“I mean I'll be with ya',” Jed assured him. “Not gonna let ya' ride alone. We just need to get ya' mounted up, okay?”  
“Oh. Okay.”  
“Hey, Cage help me will ya'?”  
“Yeah, sure.”  
Cage came over and grabbed Heyes' other arm and together they easily pulled Heyes to his shaky feet. They let him stand there and sway for a moment, allowing him time to find his equilibrium and then slowly encouraged him over to the side of Kid's temporary horse. This animal was much smaller than Karma was but it was still too high for Heyes to get his foot in the stirrup. He gave it a valiant effort, but in the end Cage hooked his arm under Heyes' knee and brought the leg up high enough for him to then manoeuvre the foot into the appropriate slot.  
Heyes reached out and grabbed the saddle horn, but then he was stuck. Next thing he knew, Cage had him by the belt and too easily boosted him up to the point where Heyes was sure he was going to go ass over teakettle and end up on the ground on the other side. But Cage still had hold of him and pulled his torso around so that he ended up with a face full of mane instead of snow. Kid had grabbed his right leg and swung it around and over the cantle so Heyes finally found himself seated in the saddle and actually facing the right way.  
“Ya' alright Heyes?” Kid asked him again.  
“Yeah,” Heyes mumbled. “Just hurting.”  
“Where ya' hurtin'?”  
“Everywhere.”  
“Uh huh. Well, let's make it easier. Where are ya' not hurtin'?”  
Heyes sat silently for a moment and really had to think about that. “My feet,” he finally decided. “They're just cold. Real cold.”  
“Well, we'll get ya' down in front of the fire at Abi's place as soon as we can,” Jed assured him. “In the mean time, how about moving your cold foot from the stirrup so's I can mount up?”  
Again, Heyes had to think about it. Do what with his what foot? Kid tapped his ankle to see if his cousin would respond. It helped and Heyes focused on that foot and slipped it out of the stirrup. Kid grabbed the horn, stepped into the stirrup himself and swung aboard, behind his cousin. He gathered up the reins and looked down at Cage.  
“You comin'?”  
“No,” Cage answered with a concerned look over to the police officers making a mess of the 'crime scene'. “I think I'll stay here and protect our interests. I'll see you back at Abi's in a couple of hours.”  
Kid nodded. “Okay.”  
Jed turned the horse's head back the way they had come and gave the animal a nudge. If Curry had been worried about finding his way back in this strange town, he needn't have wasted the energy because the horse knew exactly where he was going. With ears up and head down the equine lengthened it's walk as much as he dared under current weather conditions and made a direct bee line for home. Heyes and Kid were just along for the ride.  
It was so quiet and peaceful now. It was getting late and most of the citizens had gone home for the night so the streets were basically empty of traffic and pedestrians. The snow continued to fall lightly and made interesting patterns in the upside down cones of light being spread out by the street lamps. It wasn't as cold as it had been earlier either and the snowflakes were large and soft and muffled all sound to the point where they couldn't even hear their own horse's footsteps.  
“You doin' alright there Heyes?” Jed asked quietly, though even at that his own voice sounded like an intrusion. “You still with me?”  
“Yeah, I'm okay Kid,” Heyes answered just as quietly. “Just hurtin'. I gotta stop getting into fights.”  
“Well if ya'd just waited for me, like you're suppose ta'...”   
“I know, I know,” Heyes mumbled. “I just...wasn't thinkin'.”  
“Again.”  
Heavy sigh from the man up front. “We almost there? I'm tired.”  
Jed looked around, getting his bearings. “Yeah, I think so,” he said. “Abi's is the next block over.”  
“Good.”  
At this point Jed and the horse had a minor disagreement when Jed tried to turn it's head towards Abi's place, but the horse wanted to keep on going towards his own stable. A little persistence from the rider and a sharp kick in the ribs convinced the mode of transportation to comply with the driver and he reluctantly followed his orders.  
Then as they approached the steps leading up to Abi's front door, a man stepped out from the alcove and the horse again pricked his ears and sent out a welcoming nicker. Kid pulled up at the foot of the steps, even though the horse had every intentions of stopping there anyways, and he slid off and turned to help his partner get down. The gentleman on the porch came forward and took the bridle of the horse and patted the animal affectionately.   
“About time you got back!” he groused. “What's the idea of taking a man's horse right out of his own stable!?”  
“Oh,” Kid actually did look contrite. “Sorry mister, but as you can see it was kinda an emergency.”  
Heyes slid down to the ground and actually managed to stay on his feet, but mainly because he had the horse there to lean against. The owner of the horse took one look at Heyes in the porch light and paled slightly and swallowed.  
“Oh yeah,” he mumbled.  
“Here,” Kid dug into his pocket for the second time that evening and pulled out a fifty cent piece, geesh he was going through a lot of money this evening. “For the use of your horse and to cover any...inconveniences.”  
“Yeah, well he better not be injured!” the man griped again but he still accepted the money. “He's a good horse....” and he continued to mumbled his complaints to the night as he pulled his horse around and lead him off towards his own stable. The horse himself looked quite pleased to be going that way.  
Kid got a shoulder under his partner's arm and helped him up the stairs. He was just about to open the front door when it quite suddenly was opened for him and Abi's nosey neighbour was staring him in the face.  
“OH! Ah, Mrs. Adler!” Kid almost back stepped off the porch. “I didn't realize you'd stopped by.”  
“Well somebody needed to help dear Abigail!” she insisted. “I know the doctor is here, but sometimes there's nothing like a woman's touch...oh my!” This after her first glance at Heyes.  
“Yeah,” Kid mumbled. “So the doctor still here?”  
“Of course he is!”  
“Good,” Kid and Heyes continued to stand on the threshold while Mrs. Adler continued to stare at Heyes' condition. “Do ya' think you could go get him?” Kid finally suggested to the dimwit.  
“Oh, well fine!” she responded haughtily. “There's no need to be rude young man!”  
She turned on her heels then and headed upstairs towards Abi's room to presumably get the doctor. Heyes and Jed both chuckled over the lady's obvious obtuseness.  
“Takes all kinds,” Kid mumbled.  
“Hmm.”  
Kid helped Heyes over towards the kitchen where the stove was lit and would therefore be about the warmest room in the house. They had just got there when the door opened behind them again and the doctor came into the room. One look at Heyes and his eyes popped open in surprise.  
“OH! My goodness!” he exclaimed. “Is all that blood yours?”  
“All what blood?” Heyes asked him.  
Jed and the doctor exchanged looks. “Ah, ya' are kind of a mess Heyes,” Jed informed him as he picked a red, meaty clump from his cousin's hair. Then he grimaced in disgust and flicked the object into the stove. “Eeww, yuk! I don't even wanna know what that was!”  
The doctor shook his head and then set his bag on the table and began to remove certain items from it. Then without turning around he started talking to apparently no one.  
“I know you're listening at the door Mrs. Alder so you may as well come in and help!”  
“OH!” came the surprised little yelp from the other side of the door and then it opened and the neighbour lady put in an appearance. “Really Dr. Miser! I was just on my why in to offer to help.”  
“Hmmm hm,” came the unconvinced response. “Since you're here will you please put some water on to boil. Alright young man, take a seat here. Ah, could you help him get his jacket off?”  
Jed nodded and gave Heyes a hand with that task and then both Jed and the Doc sucked in quiet gasps at the sight of Heyes' chest and neck.  
“Oh my,” Dr. Miser commiserated. “Are those flash burns from a gun?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Hmm. Well I've seen worse, but still those must be very painful and I'm going to have to clean them. It'll hurt.”  
Heyes just nodded.  
“Not much left of that shirt,” the doctor observed. “May as well just throw it out. Do you have another?”  
“Yeah,” Heyes confirmed.  
Then the Doc reached over and gently lifted Heyes' hat off his head. His hair was all sticky and matted with blood, a lot of which had run down onto his face. How much was his and how much was Carson's was anyone's guess. The Doc stepped forward and began a gentle but thorough examination of Heyes' scalp, with Heyes grimacing whenever he got too close to the spot where Carson had whacked him with the gun.  
“Okay. Just that one injury here,” the Doc finally announced. “Head wounds always bleed a lot, so they look worse than they really are. I'm going to have to shave that area though to get it cleaned out and treated.”  
Heyes instantly tensed up. “Shaved?!” he asked defensively. “My head!?”  
The Doc furrowed his brows, wondering at the extreme reaction. “Just that one area. Don't worry it will grow back, and your hair is so thick anyways you can probably cover up the area with a bit of creative combing. Nothing to worry about.”  
“I don't really want ya' shaving my head, Doc.”  
Dr. Miser sent an imploring look over to Jed; perhaps the man's friend could help allay his fears.  
“Ah yeah,” Jed squatted down in front of his cousin. “Listen Heyes, the Doc's gotta see what he's lookin' at in order to clean it, ya' know?”  
“Yeah, I know. But....”  
“It's not like he's gonna shave your whole head.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “It's not gonna be like at the prison. It'll just be that one area. You'll be able to cover it up with your hat.”  
“Yeah...” Heyes still sounded dubious.  
“C'mon, it'll be alright.”  
“Yeah, okay—I suppose so. Just that one area though, right?”  
“Yes,” the doctor confirmed.   
“Yeah, okay.”  
“Good,” Dr. Miser nodded then turned to Mrs. Adler again. “Is that water ready yet? We'll need to wash his hair before we go any further.”  
“Just in time Doctor,” she told him as she poured some of the steaming liquid into a basin. “Here it is. Not too hot though.”  
“Fine. Thank you. Keep the rest of it warm, we'll be needing it.”  
“Of course!” and she rolled her eyes and shook her head as though resenting the doctors apparent opinion that she was an idiot!  
And so it went. They got Heyes' hair washed and then the doctor took a pair of scissors and carefully began clipping away the strands of hair that were covering the wound, and then he lathered a bit of soap over the area and gently shaved the spot bald. Throughout this whole preparation Heyes sat rock still, with his bruised and split knuckles turning white while he clutched the chair arms. Jed stood close by, keeping a hand on his cousin's shoulder, feeling the man's stress but not knowing what else he could do to relieve it.  
Finally the Doc put the straight edge down, gently wiped away the excess soap and hair and took a close look at the injury.  
“Hmm okay,” he commented. “It's not too bad. A couple of stitches ought to take care of it. I want you to stay resting for a couple of days though alright? Stay off your feet and that also means no riding of horses or driving of wagons—got that?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Good!” the Doc grumbled. “Too many fellas try to find the loop holes to 'staying off your feet'! I just want to make sure you understand what I mean!”  
Heyes couldn't help but smile despite his discomfort. “I understand, Doc.”  
“Good. Alright, Mrs. Alder. Some fresh hot water please, let's get the rest of this blood off of him. But don't touch those burns! I'll deal with those myself.”  
Then while Jed and Mrs. Adler proceeded to clean the patient up, Dr. Miser prepared a suturing needle and some thread and quickly inserted the two stitches before Heyes could get himself all worked up about it. Heyes did end up clenching his teeth and gripping the chair arms, but he handled it like a man and didn't cry. Jed was proud of him.  
Ten minutes later Heyes was looking more like his old self again, except for the soon to be black eye, the split lip the bruised cheekbones and the slightly squashed, but thankfully not broken nose. And he was still feeling the chill. Everyone else was sweating from the heat in the kitchen, but Heyes was chilled to the bone and just couldn't seem to warm up. Jed had grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around his cousin's shoulders while the Doc proceeded to clean the burn area.  
He was very gentle about it; squeezing warm water over the area to wash away any dirt or gun powder that might still be lingering, but still Heyes clenched at the chair arms and grimaced in pain throughout the whole procedure. Finally the Doc straightened up and put the cloth away.  
“As I said; I've seen worse,” he reiterated. “But that is going to be very painful for the next few days. I can put some gauze on it so that your clothing won't rub against it, but the more you can leave it open to the air, the better. I'll leave you some morphine as well, so you can sleep. Alright?”  
“Yeah, thanks Doc.”  
“Okay,” Doc gave a big sigh and started to return his equipment to his bag. “I think I'm done here for tonight. What you all need now is rest.”  
“Is Abi going to be alright, Doc?” Heyes asked hopefully.

“Oh yes,” he assured his second patient. “She's got quite a bruising to her chest, but a good night's sleep will do wonders. I'm sure she'll be feeling much better in the morning.”  
Heyes smiled with relief; he was still finding it hard to believe that she was actually still alive. “Good.”  
“And I will be back in the morning to check on you,” the doctor informed him. “In the mean time I suggest you take a dose of morphine and go to bed.”   
“Yes, I will.”  
“Fine. Goodnight.” The Doc gathered up his supplies and let himself out the front door.  
Jed turned expectant eyes to Mrs. Alder. She sent him a haughty gaze back.  
“Thank you for your assistance, Mrs. Alder,” Kid said diplomatically. “But I'm sure we can manage on our own now.”  
“WHAT!?” came the thoroughly indignant response. “If you think that I am leaving Mrs Stewart alone in her home with two—no THREE men, none of whom are her husband then you do not know me very well at all!!”  
Heyes and Kid exchanged a look  
“We appreciate you concern Mrs. Alder,” Heyes placated her. “But I can assure you that no harm will come to Mrs. Stewart. We're all friends here.”  
“I don't care!” she threw back at him. “Friends indeed! You may very well be related to Becky, but I've never seen you before! And all this yelling and fighting and....and....” She looked Heyes up and down. “...bloodshed! And where is Mr. Atwater!? At least him I know!”  
“He'll be along shortly Ma'am,” Kid assured her then added hopefully. “So when he gets here, will you go home then?”  
“I will not!!” came the retort. “He shows far too much interest in Mrs. Stewart to be trusted with her alone—especially with her so vulnerable! No indeed!”  
“Well he won't be alone with her,” Kid pointed out with a smile. “We'll be here.”  
Mrs. Alder was stopped in her tracks by the Kid's logic.  
“Well, yes I know....but that still doesn't seem quite right....”  
“No, no it'll be fine,” Kid started to push his advantage and stepping forward, he took the lady by the arm and began to steer her towards the front door. “You can be assured that we will keep our eyes on Mr. Atwater.”  
“No no, but I'm sure this is still wrong....”  
“Everything's fine,” Kid assured her as he grabbed her wrap from the coat rack and draped it around her shoulders. “You just go on home now and rest assured that you did a fine job here. Mrs. Stewart could not be in better hands.”  
“Yes, but....are you sure...?”  
“Quite sure. Goodnight.”  
“Yes, goodnight....”  
And the door was closed. And bolted.  
Jed leaned back against it with a sigh of relief, then he pushed himself forward and headed back into the kitchen.  
“You want me to help you up to Hester's room?” he asked Heyes. “Me and Cage will camp out in the living room.”  
“Oh. Yeah okay,” Heyes agreed. “I guess I am kinda tired.”  
“C'mon.” Jed helped him to his feet and they headed for the staircase.  
Heyes actually felt a bit stronger now that he'd been cleaned up and had had a chance to rest and finally start to warm up. He was still looking awfully pale though so Kid didn't relinquish his hold as they started up the stairs. That's all they'd need is for Heyes to lose his balance and take a tumble now. They made it up to the second floor without incident however and started to walk down the hall towards Hester's room.  
But then, not surprising to the Kid, as they came up to Abi's room Heyes stopped and looked at the closed door and then over to the Kid.  
“Do you mind if I just go in to see her for a moment?” he asked hopefully.

“No, I don't mind Heyes,” Jed assured him. “Ya' don't need my permission.”  
Heyes smiled, self-consciously. “Oh yeah.”  
Jed opened the door and led them into the darkened room. The light coming in from the still lit lamps in the hallway gave them enough to see the layout and Kid helped Heyes over to the armchair that was positioned by the bed—presumably placed there by the Doc to use and then later, Mrs. Alder. Heyes sat down, his eyes fixed on the hidden form laying in the bed. Jed went over to the dresser and turned up the lamp there just a bit; just to give them enough light to see by.  
Heyes leaned forward and took Abi's hand in his and gently stroked her face.  
“Ahh listen,” Jed commented, feeling like an intruder. “I'll go downstairs and get your morphine ready and I'll put it in your room. Just, let me know when you're finished here.”  
“Yeah okay Kid,” Heyes agreed, but he didn't take his eyes away from his lover's face.  
Jed stepped quietly from the room and leaving the door open, he headed back downstairs to wait until he was needed again.  
Heyes sat quietly, holding Abi's hand and drinking in every contour of her face. She was laying on her back with her head turned slightly away from him but he could still see enough of her features to be comforted. She was breathing softly, gently; sound asleep and totally unaware of his presence. Heyes lifted her hand to his lips and gently kissed her.  
“I love you so much Abi,” he whispered. “You scared me to death, ya' know that? You can be so stubborn.”  
He smiled, even though it hurt and gently stroked her hair. He wanted to lean over to kiss her mouth but he knew it would hurt too much so he contented himself with kissing her hand again instead and he held it up against his face and closed his eyes.  
“I love you so much.”

An hour later Jed came up to find him in that same position; his elbows resting on the bed, and him holding her hand up against his face. His eyes were closed and Jed wondered if he were actually sleeping like that. He came stealthily into the room and laid a hand on Heyes' shoulder.  
“Heyes?” he whispered. “You awake?”  
Heyes sighed and opened his eyes to slits. “Yeah.”  
“You should get some sleep,” he advised. “Abi'll still be here in the morning.” He smiled. “She'll probably be awake then too.”  
“Yeah.”  
“C'mon. Up ya' get.”  
And Jed took his arm and lifted him to his feet, then led him out the room and down the hall to Hester's bedroom. He sat his cousin on the bed, pulled off his boots, striped off what was left of his clothing, gave him his medicine and then tucked him in as though he were a five year old child who had stayed up way past his bedtime. Heyes accepted it all and settled into the soft comfortable bed with a deep contented sigh.  
“Goodnight Heyes. See ya' in the morning.”  
“Yeah. Goodnight Kid.”

The next morning—late, Heyes woke up to bright sunshine coming in through opened curtains in the room. Had those curtains been open all night or had someone snuck in and pulled them open in order to encourage him to WAKE UP! No, couldn't be that Heyes surmised with a yawn, they knew he'd had a rough night and had taken a sleeping draft. Surely they wouldn't do that. He glanced over to the dresser and spied a neat pile of his clean clothes setting there, waiting for him. Hmm someone had been in his room—maybe they would do that.  
He lay in the warm comfy bed, looking up at a ceiling that he could see and he smiled. He knew they were still a long ways from the truth of all this, but Abi was alive, and Carson had admitted to killing Doc Morin. Heyes couldn't believe the weight the other man's confession had taken off his shoulders.  
Carson had thrown that confession into Heyes' face thinking that it would hurt him, hoping it would enrage him, trying to goad him into mindlessly attacking. To some extent Carson's ploy had worked; Heyes had become enraged, but he hadn't attacked blindly, he had kept his wits about him and now in this moment in time, all he felt was peace.  
“There ya' go Doc,” he whispered up to the ceiling. “I've still got a ways to go before I can rest, but I hope you're satisfied now. Carson admitted to it, and now he's paid the price. The only thing sweeter would have been for him to wind up in prison.” Heyes smiled. “Yeah, the Wyoming Territorial Prison to be precise. That would have been sweet. But then that would have been simple revenge, not justice and we're not suppose to seek revenge are we Doc?” Heyes sighed. “Sometimes I think your version of Heaven takes away all the fun in life.”   
He lay there for a few more minutes, his thoughts far away and his morphine laden body comfortable and content just to stay where it was. But gradually a slightly disconcerting expression clouded his eyes and he frowned as some new recollections came to him.   
“Funny thing,” he again commented to the ceiling. “Carson admitted that he used a pillow to suffocate you, and—I mean, I know that's what you said, but.....” Heavy sigh. Deep thinking. “Just when I get comfortable with the explanation that those nightmares were just my subconscious mind trying to tell me that I knew something that I didn't know I knew, I get hit with something like this. There is no way I could have known myself that Carson killed you with a pillow—I wasn't even there. I only knew it because that is what you showed me in my nightmares....” Another sigh, a pursing of lips. Ouch! That hurt. “So, did you really come to me Doc? Are there such things as ghosts? Or were they just nightmares after all, but if they were just nightmares, then how could I....Oh, this is giving me a headache!” And he absently put his hand up to the side of his head, where the headache was beginning to throb. “Oww! Damn! I forgot about that. Eww, that hurt.” He tentatively felt around the scalp wound, his fingertips getting gently pricked by the stitches. He brought his hand away and sighed again, this time reflectively. “I've gotta stop doing this to myself. I'm going to wind up with brain damage if I'm not careful....”  
Then he stopped talking to his friend and frowned, listening intently; there were voices coming from downstairs. Two different deep rumbles—must be Kid and Cage. Then the higher tinkle of a woman laughing—Abi! Heyes' heart was instantly in his throat! Abi was downstairs with Cage! Oh no! Sure, Kid was there to protect Heyes' interests but still—Heyes suddenly decided it was time to get up.

Ohhh...what a mistake. The room was spinning! And who opened those damn curtains!?

THU....THUMP!

Silence down in the living room, then the 'thump thump thump' of someone running up the stairs. Within seconds Abigail—without even knocking first—burst into the bedroom to find a dishevelled Mr. Heyes sprawled out on the floor and doing his best to crawl back to the bed.  
“ABI!” Heyes yelled indignantly. “For God's sakes woman—I don't have any clothes on!”  
“Oh so what!?” she threw back at him as she entered the room and then came over to him and grabbing an arm, attempted to help him back onto the bed. “What did you think you were doing, getting out of bed with that dose of morphine still in your system?!”  
“ABIGAIL!” Cage stood at the threshold looking totally outraged. Jed stood behind him, trying hard not to laugh. “Wait downstairs—for decency's sake!”  
“Oh Cage, really!” Abi humphed as she helped Heyes to sit up on the bed. He quickly grabbed the comforter and pulled it over himself. “You know darn well that he's the father of my children—do you really think that I haven't seen his....”  
“Abi please!” Heyes was mortified, his face the same colour as the burns on his chest.  
Abi turned to give him a scolding too, but as her eyes met his her expression softened and she gave him a gentle smile. “Oh my, Mr. Heyes you do look a mess,” she told him. She patted him affectionately on the leg and gave him a kiss on his burning cheek (the one on his face, ladies). “Alright,” she agreed. “To protect the fragile male ego I will go and wait for you to get dressed and come downstairs. The coffee is on and Jed can make you some flapjacks if you want.”  
“Hello!!” came Mrs. Adler's voice from the front door. “Anyone at home!?”  
Four sets of shoulders slumped, followed by groans all around.  
Jed quickly nipped into the bedroom so that she wouldn't see him. “Ah, I'll let you two handle her,” he offered diplomatically. “I can help Heyes get dressed.”  
Abi was on her feet and heading for the bedroom door. “How chivalrous of you Jedidiah.”  
“Uh huh,” Jed smiled at the look Cage gave him as that gentleman also passed him on his way out the door and into the hallway.  
“We'll be right down Mrs. Alder!” Abi called from the bannister, and then Jed closed the door on them and turned to his still embarrassed cousin.  
“Don't say it!” Heyes warned him. “Don't say a word!”  
“What?” Jed's blue eyes dripped with innocence. “You got to see her last night. It's only fair that she get to see...YOU...this morning.”  
Heyes snarled. “JUST.....GET MY CLOTHES!”  
It took a good half hour for Jed to help Heyes with his morning toiletries. Shaving was the most awkward as any moving or stretching of the skin on his neck caused immense pain to shear into him. So no, shaving did not receive its usual attention that morning. Long johns, pants and woollen socks were no problem, but the henley? No way! Just the thought of anything rubbing against his skin made him cringe with apprehension. Jed helped him to put a shirt on but Heyes would only allow him to button it up half way.  
Jed stood back and surveyed him. “Hmm,” he scrutinized. “Well, normally I would say that you're not really dressed decently for company, but after saying 'good morning' to the whole household in your birthday suit....”  
“You're just not gonna let that go, are ya'?”  
Jed grinned. “Nope.” Then he did a quick survey of the room to see if he had missed anything. “I suppose there's no point in asking if you want your sweater.”  
“No,” Heyes agreed. “I'll take that blanket down with me. If I get cold I can wrap up in that.”  
“Okay. You ready for a cup of coffee?”  
“Oh yeah!”  
The two cousins made their way downstairs and settled in at the dinning room table where Cage was enjoying another cup of coffee himself. Feminine voices could be heard drifting out to them from the kitchen area.

“Well, I just didn't know what else to do!” came Mrs. Adler's indignant declaration. “It's just not proper to leave a young woman alone with two strange men! Especially a young woman who was in as vulnerable a state as you were last night! But that curly haired man was just so rude!” Jed grinned over at his partner. Heyes smirked. “I just didn't know what else to do. Thank goodness you're alright!”  
“Of course I'm alright Mrs. Adler,” came Abi's patient reply. “You already know Mr. Atwater and the other two gentlemen are relatives on my husband's side of the family. You know that.”  
“Oh I know...but still...”  Mrs. Adler set her chin in determination.  "An armed man forced his way into your home and assaulted you.  None of us are safe in our own beds any more!  What was he after?"  She blushed furiously.  "He could have...  Oh, Abigail, you could have suffered a fate worse than death!  And who could be next?  I only live a few doors away."  
Abigail patted the matron's hand with barely concealed tolerance.  "I'm sure you're completely safe in your bed.  I have no doubt you will remain unmolested."  
The men sitting out around the dinning table smirked quietly, putting hands up to their mouths to stifle their laughter. If they could hear the two ladies speaking in the kitchen then they would certainly have no trouble hearing the fellas laughing in the dinning room!    
"We can only hope so," Mrs. Adler sighed.  
"I'm sure of it," Abigail smiled.  "Your inviolability is assured."  
"But what did he want?  I think we should all go down to the police station and demand an officer for this street twenty four hours a day."  
Abigail's mouth set into a line.  "There's no need for that, Mrs. Adler."  
"There's every need.  We're terrified here."  
"Mrs. Adler, this was a one-off incident."  
The neighbour's eyes widened.  "How can you be so sure?"  
Abigail paused.  "Because this was a specific threat."  
Horror and inquisitiveness competed for space on the woman's moon-shaped face.  "He was after you?" she snooped.  
"There was some information which the Pinkertons received... it reflected a specific threat to Anya and me.  That is why she and Hester are in hiding."  
Mrs. Adler's jaw dropped.  "They were after you!?  But why?"  
"I agreed to help draw him out, so Anya and I could live in peace.  My husband's cousins also agreed to help, to make sure I was safe, and Robert Pinkerton himself posted Agent Atwater to guard me."  
"Mr. Atwater's an agent?  But why would anyone want to harm you?"  
Abigail always found it more believable to look someone straight in the eye when she was lying.  "I think it's revenge for something my late husband solved when he was a Pinkerton.  He and Mr. Atwater were friends, so Mr. Pinkerton thought it wouldn't be odd for him to be seen at my home, especially as his late wife was very dear to me too."  She leaned forward, clutching at Mrs. Adler's hand.  "I wouldn't tell just anyone this, but I know I can rely on your discretion.  If anyone is afraid they may be next, I'm sure you can reassure them; but please don't share this information with anyone."   
"My lips are sealed," the matron gasped.  "But you stayed deliberately."  
Abigail nodded.  "You know what mothers are, when their children are at risk, Mrs. Adler.  I'm sure you'd do the same."  
Mrs. Adler's chewing on her bottom lip provided a mute answer.   
"Anyway," Abigail's tone turned light.  "I have family around me, a personal guard, and you now know that you are in no danger.  He's been killed, and the matter is over.  We just have to recover now."   
   And then the three gentlemen at the table quickly put on their casual morning faces as the kitchen door opened and the two ladies in question joined them in the dinning room. Abi was carrying the coffee pot and another cup for Heyes. She smiled a good morning to him, poured him a steaming cup and offered everyone else a replenish. Mrs. Adler was stopped short in her continued protestations when she spied Heyes' exposed chest.

“OH MY!” she exclaimed and tried to cover Abi's eyes with her hand. “But that's just not decent....!”  
“Mrs. Adler!” Abi pushed her hand away with a flash of irritation. “Surely even you can see that he has suffered burns to his neck and chest! Dr. Miser told him to leave that area open to the air. Would you have him go against doctor's orders?”  
“Well...no, of course not,” she conceded. “But, but....well he could at least show enough courtesy to remain confined to his room while there are ladies present!”  
“Mrs. Adler, I am sitting right here,” Heyes pointed out to her. He already wasn't feeling well and this busybody was getting on his nerves. “And as for staying confined to my room, I was invited to be here by my dear cousin, Mrs. Stewart, which is more than what can be said for you. So if my bare chest offends you then might I suggest that you confine yourself back in your own house and leave us in peace.”  
Mrs. Adler's mouth popped open as though to suggest that she had never, in all her born days, been spoken to in such a manner. “Well! I never!”  
“Then it's about time that you did,” Heyes snarked. “Good morning.”  
“But I....”  
Abi stifled a laugh and then stepped forward to take Mrs. Adler's arm in a conciliatory manner and direct her towards the front door.  
“Yes, yes I know, Mrs. Adler,” Abi confided in her. “As you can clearly see, my cousin is not feeling well today so perhaps it would be best if we humoured him for now.”  
“If you ask me, he's being very rude!”  
“I know. But you know what men are like when they're not feeling well—they become such babies.”  
Then both ladies started to laugh.  
“Oh yes!” Mrs. Adler agreed. “You're quite right there Dear! And here you are having to put up with that nonsense with you not feeling your best either!”  
“Yes, well it is a woman's lot,” Abi gave a self-suffering sigh. Heyes rolled his eyes. “But you would make things so much easier for me to deal with him if you could just condescend to give us some quiet time.”  
“Oh well yes, of course my Dear,” Mrs. Adler patted her hand in sympathy. “Any way I can help out—you know that!”  
“Yes, of course. Thank you! Have a good day!”  
Abi closed the front door on her neighbour and just as Jed had done the evening before, she leaned back against it and the whole room gave out a sigh. Cage and Jed were grinning from ear to ear with Abi's solution to the problem but Heyes was still scowling, not in the mood at all to being 'condescended' to.  
“Oh! Finally!” Abi breathed with relief. “I know she means well, but....”  
She was interrupted by a knock at the door. Everyone froze.  
“Oh for goodness sakes...” Abi swung around and pulled open the door all prepared to do battle, but then stopped in mid attack. “...Oh! Dr. Miser.”  
“Mrs. Stewart,” he greeted her. “You seem to have recovered well.”  
“Oh yes. Please come in,” she opened the door wider for him. “Would you like some coffee?”  
“No no that's fine,” he declined as he made his way over to the group at the table. “Just came to check up on my two patients.” He set his satchel on the table with a sigh and then smiled at Abi. “Seriously now, how are you this morning. Feeling better?”  
“Yes,” Abi assured him. “Still sore, but much better since last night.”  
“Good!” the doctor smiled. “And I'm sure you're all feeling better now that you've sent the major pain in the posterior out the door.”  
Everyone smiled at that.  
“Oh! That woman is such a busybody!” Abi exclaimed as she came over and sat down at the table herself. “I hope she got the hint and stays away for the rest of the day!”  
“I'll drink to that,” Heyes mumbled.  
The doctor smiled over at his next patient. “It's good to see you up and about, Mr....?”  
“Ah Smith,” Heyes answered out of habit. “Joshua Smith.”  
“Mr. Smith.” Miser smiled. “Well, how are you feeling this morning, 'Mr. Smith'?”  
“Still kinda sore, Doc.”  
“Mmm hmm. Did you sleep alright?”  
“Yeah. The morphine helped a lot.”  
“I'm sure it did. You think those burns hurt now, believe me, you would find them a lot worse without the morphine.”  
Heyes smiled. “I'd rather not find out how much worse Doc, if you don't mind.”  
“Don't worry about that,” Miser assured him. “I'll leave you some more. It's a beautiful sunny day out there, but with all that fresh snow we got overnight, you'd be better off staying put for a few days anyway.”  
“My plan exactly,” Heyes agreed.  
“How's your head?”  
Heyes sighed. “Aching.”  
“Do you have a headache now?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Okay.” Doc moved in closer and carefully taking Heyes' chin in one hand, he held up the finger of his other hand and moved it back and forth in front of Heyes' eyes. “Follow my finger. No, just with your eyes. Keep your head still.”  
“Oh yeah, sorry. I should know that one.”  
The Doc completed his exam and then smiled. “Okay. Looks good. What you need the most is rest, so again; stay off your feet.”  
Jed grinned but was wise enough not to make any cracks about that. Abi sent him a warning look.  
“Yeah, don't worry Doc,” Heyes assured him. “I'll be taking it easy. I'm not planning on going anywhere.”  
“Good! Now, if your headache becomes worse or you start to vomit, you send someone to get me, right away. You hear?”  
“Yeah.”  
The Doc looked around the room at everyone. “That goes for all of you. Keep an eye on him. Head injuries are nothing to laugh about, even if they appear to be minor.”  
“Yeah, we'll watch him Doc,” Kid assured him, all sincere now.  
“Hmm,” was all Cage had to say about that.  
“Fine,” the Doc seemed satisfied. “Well, I'll be off. Here's some more morphine. For you too Mrs. Stewart—just take some at night to help you sleep.”  
“Yes Doctor. Thank you.”  
Abi showed the doctor out and then returned to the table.  
“Well, now that that's done, are you hungry?” she asked Heyes. “I know it's nearer lunch time now than breakfast, but would you like some flapjacks.”  
“Oh no Abi,” Heyes groaned. “I'm really not that hungry.”  
“More coffee then?”  
“You know, I think I would like a cup of tea.”  
Abi smiled. “Actually that does sound nice. I could do with a cup of tea as well. But still, you should have something to eat. How about some warm bread with preserves? How does that sound?”  
Heyes nodded even though he really wasn't all that interested. On the other hand, even though they'd both already had a full breakfast, Cage and Jed exchanged looks and grinned. That actually did sound pretty good.  
Ten minutes later Abi and Jed had the table laid out for a quick and simple lunch and everyone settled in to warm bread and preserves along with some cheeses and pickles and hot sweet tea.  
As they were drawing to an end of their meal, Cage scrutinized Heyes and then opted the question.  
“How you feeling Heyes?” he asked simply.  
Heyes frowned, wondering why Cage would care and then shrugged. “I'm alright.”  
“Okay, good. Cause I need to ask you some questions about what happened last night,” Cage informed him. “before I go over to the police station to give them my report.”  
Heyes' shoulders slumped. “Oh.”  
Abi gave Heyes a reassuring squeeze on the arm and then went to the kitchen to replenish the tea pot. Cage pulled out his notebook, pen and a jar of ink in order to be able to make notes of anything of importance that Heyes opted to tell him. Heyes sent a quick look over to his cousin and Jed simply smiled and shrugged. There was no getting out of this one.  
“So,” Cage began. “I just need your statement of what you think happened last night.”  
“Well you know the first part,” Heyes griped. “Carson tricked his way into the house and shot Abi!”  
“Yes I know,” Cage confirmed this as he dipped his pen. “What I need is your version of it.”  
Heyes gave a long suffering sigh. Was he never going to get away from these officials!?  
“Okay,” he began. “Carson came to the front door claiming that he had a message for Abi and then when she opened the door for him, he shot her. Are we agreed so far?”  
“Yes.”  
“Okay. I didn't know that Abi was wearing some new fangled contraption.” He rolled his eyes. “I should have guessed it though! She's always up to something like that! Have you noticed that too Kid? She can never just stay out of things, she's always got to be right in the middle of it all and scare everybody half to death....”  
“Heyes,” Cage interrupted him. “We all know what Abi's like, just....give me your account of what happened.”  
“Oh, yeah. Alright,” Heyes capitulated. “Ahh...I guess I just lost it...” Jed snorted, Heyes sent him a look. “...well, it was Carson! That fucking bastard! As far as I was concerned he's the one who had killed Dr. Morin and now he'd just killed the woman I love—the mother of my daughter!” Cage shifted a little uncomfortably with that statement. “I sure as hell wasn't going to let him get away with it again! Not if I could help it. So, like I said; I just lost it and I went after him.”  
“A dangerous man for you to be going after all on your own, don't you think?”  
“Yeah!” Curry agreed whole heartedly with that query.   
“Yes, okay!” Heyes grumbled. “I know, but....I just couldn't let him get away this time! So I borrowed a horse and ran him down. He caught me by surprise though and ended up ramming me. He knocked my horse of it's feet and I lost my gun. He could have shot me right then and there, but he didn't. He said it was because he didn't want the noise of it to attract attention, but I think he just wanted to play games; he wanted to torment me, and that was his mistake.  
“We ended up fighting and he told me that Harris had given us the wrong information. Carson was quite happy to admit to being a part of it all, but that he wasn't the one behind it. He wouldn't say who was. So, with that I kinda regret killing him because he had that information and now,” Heyes shrugged. “it's like we're back a square one again. We still don't know who was behind all this, and why. I mean, how could Doc Morin's murder have any connection to the attempts on Beth's life? Unless it was all just about that Hearing, but that seems an awful lot of trouble to go to just because of some disagreements over prison policy.”  
At this point Abigail returned with the teapot and topped up everyone's cups. She also managed to bring in some cherry pie for dessert but it tended to get ignored. She sat back down beside Heyes giving him another supportive squeeze and then settled in to drink her tea and listen.  
“It's better if you don't start speculating at this point Heyes,” Cage suggested as he noted Abi's affectionate caress given to the parolee. “Often the motives don't become clear until we have gathered up all the information and as far as I can tell there are still a lot of blank spaces and empty seats in this little mystery. So, you got into an altercation with Carson and he admitted to being involved with the attempts on Miss Jordan's life...”  
“Yes.”  
“Then what?”  
“Well, we fought some more,” Heyes admitted. “I accused him of killing the Doc...”  
“The Doc...?”  
“Dr. Morin, the prison doctor.”  
“Okay. You have to be specific,” Cage told him. “Remember, the police don't know any of these people.”  
Heyes sighed and nodded. “Yeah. So I accused him of killing the...ah, Dr. Morin and I guess in order to taunt me he admitted to it. Actually described it in some detail, just to rub it in.” Again, he looked over at his cousin and Jed was watching him with a mixture of sadness and concern in his eyes. He knew what a good friend the Doc had been to Heyes, but he also knew that Heyes had never killed anyone before and Jed was worried about how that was going to affect his partner.   
“I told him he was going to pay for Morin's death, but he just laughed at me,” Heyes continued. “said it couldn't be proven. And he was right. But then I told him he was going to hang for killing Abi and he had no defence for that. I told him that there was no way I was going to let him get away and that my friends would be along any minute. He agreed with that and so decided that he had nothing to lose by shooting me at that point, so he pulled his gun and aimed it at me. I thought I was a goner but I guess, I donno, maybe because of the cold or something, the gun misfired and nothing happened. I didn't need a second invite and I went at him. That's when I got this dandy knot on my noggin. He shot at me again, but missed and then we were in close quarters, practically in a bear hug, with that gun trapped in between us.  
“I didn't know which way the muzzle was pointing and I suppose at that point I didn't care. I got the hammer pulled back and though, I sure don't remember getting my finger around the trigger, I guess I did because the gun went off. I thought I'd been the one who got hit at first because it felt like my chest had been blown apart but then I continued to stand there and breathe so I figured it couldn't have been me. Then Carson just dropped like a sack of potatoes. I don't know where the bullet hit him, but obviously it killed him, and that was it. Next thing I know, Jed's talking to me and I'm trying to figure out how he'd been able to emerge out of nowhere's like that.”   
Heyes then sat silently, watching Cage as he wrote down the last of his notes. “So,” Heyes finally asked, a little tentatively. “would it be considered uncouth to ask where Carson got shot?”  
Cage looked up at Heyes and then put a finger under his own chin. “The bullet went in here and came out the top of his head, kinda towards the back. Killed him instantly.”  
“Oh.”  
Cage snapped his notebook closed, eyeing Heyes cautiously.  “Well, everything you’ve told me matches the evidence, and sits with reasonable force for a man trying to kill you.   Direct pursuit for a man you’d just seen shoot a woman in the chest  is also acceptable, even if you ain’t an officer of the law,” he leaned back, his voice hardening.  “There’s just the parole to complicate things.”  
Heyes’ blood turned to ice.  “What do you mean?”  
“Cage!” Abigail snapped, drinking in the pallor creeping over Heyes’ face.  “Stop this right now.  We both know you’re going to protect the identities of ‘two covert officers,’ and we also know that it’s routinely done for straightforward cases.”  She walked over to Heyes’ chair and propped herself on the arm, draping a protective arm around his shoulders.  “You will take the police to the Pinkerton offices, and show them the files on Carson, and on the prison escape,” her angry, dark eyes pushed home each point as surely as a prod to the shoulder.  “and the murder of the prison doctor!  You will tell them he was a corrupt public official, and you will show them my file, so they think this was driven by revenge against myself.”  
“Is that allowed, Abi?  Is it even possible? ” Heyes whispered, hoarsely.     
“It’s not allowed, but things like that are done all the time.”  She turned back to Cage.  “And you will support me, or I will no longer consider you a friend.”  
“Abi, I...”  
She cut him off.  “I’m serious, Cage.  You’ve been niggling at him since he arrived, and I’ve had it up to here.” She raised her hand to her hairline.  “I won’t allow it, especially when he is in such pain.  He’s been through enough.”  
“Abi, I’m only foolin’.”  
“The only person you’re fooling is yourself, Cage.  It will break my heart to lose you, but I will,” her eyes filled with pain.  “Why can’t you just be happy for me?  He’s done his time, and paid a higher price than the law dictates.  I can’t be a friend to someone who hurts my man.  I’ve already asked nicely.  I won’t ask again.”  
Heyes clutched her hand, his heart warming at being described as ‘her man’ for the first time, but the niggling worry still remained.  Could Cage be trusted?  
Cage sighed heavily.  “I’m sorry, Abi.  I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he raised sheepish, blue eyes to meet hers.  “I wouldn’t say you asked nicely, though.  You very nearly ripped my face off.”  
She gave a watery smile.  “Please Cage.  You don’t need to like him, just stop needling at him.”  
“Fine, if that’s what it takes.”  He nodded towards the Kid.  “Curry, get your suit on.  You’re comin’ with me to the police station.”  
“Me?” the Kid’s eyes widened in surprise.  
“Yup,” he nodded towards Heyes.  “If anyone asks, he’s drugged and sleepin’ it off.  Keep your mouth shut, and let me do the talkin’.”  He shook his head ruefully.  “If anyone at the Pinkerton offices ever finds out that I took Kid Curry on a guided tour, I’ll be tarred and feathered.”    
Abigail walked over to Cage and dropped a kiss on the top of his head.  “Thank you.  I know you’re only looking out for me, but we do love one another,” she glanced over at Heyes, “and he’s never been a bad man; just a thief, a liar... a cheat...”  
Heyes smiled, picking up on the irony.  “Thanks, Abi.  I’m glad you’re on my side.”  
Cage flicked up an eyebrow.  “I ain’t his biggest fan *(I checked, fan has been in use since 1883), but what I do know is, he’s better than that bottom feeder we left on the slab.  He hurt people,” Cage touched Abigail lightly on the arm, “good people; folks I care about, and you ain’t never been that sort of man... and if this hadn’t been a setup, he was goin’ for little Becky.  He was lookin’ straight up the stairs after he shot Abi.  I saw that.”  Cage stood.  “I’d best get changed too, and give the grand tour of the Pinkerton offices.  They can come back here and take your statement, Abi.”  He nodded towards Heyes.  “They’ll have a copy of yours already, Heyes.  I’ll get a typewriter to type all of ours up for them.  The statements will need signin’.  Do it when they come to the house.”  
Heyes stood slowly, and thrust out a hand towards Cage.  “Thanks.  I realize this goes against everything you’ve lived by, but I’m straight now; we both are.  I give you my word I’ll never hurt her.  I’ll do what it takes.”  
Cage reluctantly took his hand.  He gave it a firm shake, but retained a glint to his gaze.  “I saw that last night.  Make sure you look after her, Heyes.  You don’t want to make an enemy of me.”  
“None of us do, Cage, but we’re all on the same side,” Heyes gave a gaunt, dimpled grin.  “Hopefully you’ll get that soon.  I need to ask, do you really think they’ll buy it?  Our identities, I mean.”  
“Heyes, the way I saw those amateurs mess up that crime scene last night, they’d buy just about anythin’.  If they got any dumber, they’d need to be watered twice a week.”  Cage gave Heyes a curt nod.  “We’ll sort it – between us.”      
Abigail watched the two men leave the room and took a seat on the sofa, patting the cushion beside her.  “Come and sit by me, we both need to rest.”  
Heyes pushed the large footstool over to her with his foot, grimacing as the tightening burns stiffened and protested against every movement.  As it approached, Abigail leaned over and pulled it to her, sharing similar moue as pain sheared through her own chest.  “Leave it, Abi.  You shouldn’t be doing that,” Heyes chided.  “You were shot in the chest last night.”  
“So were you,” she protested, “and you weren’t wearing protective clothing, sit with me, Mr. Heyes.  Let’s just be still for a while.”  
They snuggled together under his blanket, arranging the cushions as comfortably as they could, sharing the footstool. He clutched at her hand and settled back with a sigh.  “When I get better I’m gonna strangle you, Abi.”   
“Ever the romantic.  Do you mind if I ask why?”  
“You didn’t tell me about that protective vest, and I thought you were dead,” he turned, fixing her with anguished eyes. “I really did, Abi, don’t ever do that to me again.”   
She looked off, staring at everything and nothing.  “I won’t Mr. Heyes, but I didn’t tell you for a reason – quite simply, we weren’t sure if it would work.  It’s more of a prototype really.  This one has thirty layers of silk.  They’ve trialled all kinds, with metal in the layers, but the metal shattered and pierced vital organs.”  
Heyes groaned.  “You didn’t know and you still did it!?”  
“Anya needs this brought to an end.”  
His fingers tightened around her hand.  “She also needs her mother,” he gave a rasp of exasperation.  “Abi, you can’t live like you used to.  She needs the stability only you can give.”  
“I know, but I was desperate to draw him out.  I had to for her sake.”  She drew up his hand and kissed it.  “And she has Hester... and you.  She has a father now.”  
He sucked in a breath.  “She’s never even met me, Abi.  She thinks her pa is dead.”  
“I know, and I’m not being cavalier with my life, but I’ll do anything to make her safer,”  she continued softly, “no matter what it costs.  That’s normal for a mother; ask Belle what she would give to save her children.”  Abigail turned, holding his gaze.  “In case anything happened to me, I lodged documents in my bank, naming you as her true father, and giving you custody.  It’s all legally framed, and you should have no problem in caring for your daughter.  I also wrote her numerous letters, explaining who you are, and how much you have always loved her... and telling her that I was sorry to leave her.”  
Heyes sat silently, allowing her words to soak into his soul.  He was gradually becoming a father – a proper parent.  The realization hit him that it was easier to become one, than to be one.  He leaned back, closing his eyes, understanding how hard he would have to work to deserve his daughter’s love.  A smile twitched at his lips; the idea didn’t daunt him, it was a calculation, one which would have to start gently, through the veil of a soft light.  She would have to come to him in her own time – just as Abigail had said.  “I want you by my side, Abi.  Please... don’t do that again.”  
She laid her head on his shoulder.  “Right back at ya, Mr. Heyes,” she replied, mimicking his accent.  Don’t just take off on your own like that again; wait for backup.  She needs at least one of us,” she gave a heavy sigh.  “Cage went to the morgue with the body.  He found a telegram in Carson’s pocket.”  
Heyes turned serious eyes on Abigail.  “Yeah?  Saying what?”  
“It was sent from Missouri, and signed ‘M.’  It said, ‘Wired money.  H idiot.  Birds flown J.J.  Do this quick.”  
Heyes felt the hairs prickle on the back of his neck.  “Missouri?”  
She nodded.  “Yes, Cage has agents looking into who sent it.  If we’re lucky we can track it through the cash.  There was also a hotel room key, so hopefully there’ll be documents to collect the cash – the trail can be picked up from there.”  
“’M,’ in Missouri?”  Heyes scratched distractedly at his forehead.  
“Yes,” Abigail had sensed him stiffen beside her, “I take it you have an idea who that might be?”  
“I’m afraid I might.”  His forehead creased in a frown, “So if we can’t trace the cash to a bank, we can try showing a photograph to the clerk.”  
“Who do you think it is?”  
“Mitchell, the warden of the prison; he went back to Missouri when Kenny got his job.”  
Abigail sat upright.  “The warden?  Why would he hate you enough to do all this?”  She shook her head, “And why target Beth?  It doesn’t make any sense.”  
Heyes pulled her to him.  “Nothing much has made sense for a very long time, Abi.  We need to rest, because I get the feeling there’s still a lot more to find out.”                  
    
To Be Continued

(Historical note – 1879 - The first telephone switchboard used in Topeka.)  


	7. Simple Gifts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friends and families celebrate the holidays.
> 
> Heyes comes to value the simple things.

Simple Gifts  
   
Cage sat opposite the inspector, drumming his fingers on the heavy mahogany desk between them.  He watched the man idly brush one side of his moustaches with one hand while he digested the contents of the Pinkerton reports on Carson.  “How’s that Whiskey, Inspector.  Does that need freshened up?”  
Inspector Blewett glanced down at his glass.  “I suppose it could do with a top up,” he dropped the manila folder on the desk and shook his head.  “He killed the prison doctor?  In God’s name, why?”  
Cage nodded.  “He admitted it to my man before he tried to shoot him.  He didn’t say why, but the doctor testified against him at a hearing.  Carson said he suffocated him with a pillow,” Cage leaned forward.  “Now, that’s the interestin’ bit.  If he did suffocate him, there’ll be evidence – stuff that probably wasn’t looked for after a stabbin’ at a prison break.”  
“Really?” Inspector Blewett smiled at the Kid as he poured a generous glug of amber fluid into his glass.  “Even after all this time?”  
Cage nodded.  “We use science here, and there are new developments all the time.  Did you know that when somebody is suffocated there are little broken blood vessels?  The docs call them ‘Petechiae’ and they can be found a long time after death, dependin’ on how well the body is preserved.  We’d need to ask the family, but if Doc Morin was exhumed, we could prove it.”  
 Inspector Blewitt frowned.  “The man who killed him’s already dead.  Is it worth putting the family through that when there’s no trial at the end of it?”  
Cage shrugged.  “Probably not, but his nephew’s a deputy.  To some folks findin’ the truth means everythin’, to others, findin’ peace is enough.  We have to give them the choice, but we’ll abide by that.”  
“Findin’ the truth meant a lot to my partner,” the Kid folded his arms.  “I was afraid it might have cost him his life.”  
“Yeah, we all know how it feels to lose a man,” Inspector Blewitt sucked in a draught of the golden nectar and gazed pensively into the rich depths of the liquor, failing to notice the warning glower being sent from the Pinkerton to the ex-outlaw who had failed to comply with the warning to keep his mouth shut.  “The evidence all points to Carson having a violent, corrupt past, and Harris’ statement corroborates it,” the inspector continued, “but why shoot Mrs. Stewart?”  
“I’ll be honest with you, we ain’t completely sure,” Cage replied, “but we do know this.”  He tossed another folder across the desk to the policeman.  “Abi... Mrs. Stewart, used to be an agent for us.”  
Blewitt sucked in a breath.  “That little woman?  But she looks so respectable!”  
Cage stood, both hands resting on the desktop by the finger tips as he leaned over and fixed the police inspector with angry, blue eyes.  “She is respectable, and this is a good time to tell you that I also married a female Pinkerton.”  
Inspector Blewitt looked up at the simmering agent, while the Kid dropped a placating hand on Cage’s shoulder.  “I’m sure the police inspector didn’t mean to cause offence...”  the Kid murmured.  “He just ain’t used to women workin’.”  
Cage regained his composure glancing between the police officer and the Kid.  “Yeah, sure...”  
“The women Alan Pinkerton employed were real clever, inspector.  Smarter than a lot of the men,” the Kid added quickly.  “They were also very good at gettin’ into areas men couldn’t, they got information nobody else could.”  
“Gossip, you mean,” chortled Blewitt.  Sensitivity was clearly not his strong suit.    
“Focus, Cage,” hissed the Kid.  
Cage smiled; a cold, harsh, snap like a shark detecting blood in the water.  “Yeah, gossip; but that’s useful to us too, you know.”  
“Oh, it’s useful to us all, Mr. Atwater.” The policeman swigged back the last of his drink, still sublimely unaware of the annoyance he had caused to the huge man.  “It looks like there’s just one more thing to be covered off,” he clattered the empty glass back on the desk, eyeing Cage hopefully, “the question of the true identities of your undercover operatives.  You surely don’t expect me to believe they’re really called Joshua Smith and Thaddeus Jones, do you?  Those were the aliases used by Curry and Heyes.  Credit me with a little sense, will ya?”  
“We rarely divulge the true identity of officers who work in secret unless there’s a court order.  It can compromise their missions.  As you can imagine, there's a whole lotta work yet to be done on this case, and it involves corrupt public officials,” Cage raised a hand to squelch the objection tumbling from Blewitt’s lips, “and we ain’t saying for a second that your department’s involved, OR corrupt.  That’s why I brought you here, to be straight with ya.  I could just have given you any names, you know, but you’ve got the kind of qualities I can work with; I knew that the minute I saw you.  You ain’t gonna push this, you hate a bent lawman as much as I do, and you ain’t gonna do anythin’ to mess up the ongoin’ investigation.  If we give you the names, they’ll be in the system.  Who knows who could see them?  Their families could be targeted next. ”  
The Kid held the bottle over Blewitt’s glass again, arching his eyebrow in query.  “Are we celebratin’ concludin’ our business, or are we preparin’ the papers for the court action?  It ain’t like he’s still alive, and you know who we are?  You’re in the Pinkerton offices, and you’ve seen the files.”  
Blewitt sat back drumming his fingers impatiently on the desk before he raised his head with a smile.  “I never could be bothered with paperwork...  I think we’re celebrating the seeing a killer get what he deserved, without too much expense to the people of Topeka, huh?”  
The glass was almost miraculously filled again.   
Cage’s smile warmed.  “Mr. Jones, can you get us two more glasses?  They’re in the filin’ cabinet over there.”  
The Kid nodded, pausing to whisper in Cage’s ear.  “Are you sure you ain’t Irish?  You could talk the teeth off a saw.  That was all too easy.”  
    

The sharp rap at the door jolted Heyes and Abigail awake. They sat, blinking into the twilight at the ever darkening room. “How long have we been asleep?” Heyes asked, scratching at his head, carefully avoiding the stitches.  
Abigail pushed back the blanket. “I’ve no idea. I remember feeling relaxed and warm in front of the fire, and your shoulder was just the right place for my head...”  
There was another knock at the door. Abigail made to jump to her feet, but was stopped short by a spasm of pain. “Abi, are you alright?”   
She gave a weak smile and stood, rather more gingerly than before. “I’m fine, just a bit over-ambitious.” She strode over to the front door, pausing only to glance in the hair mirror to check her post-nap hair. “Mr. Atwater, Inspector – so good to see you again – and Mr. Jones too.”  
The police inspector fixed her with glassy eyes. “Miss Shtewart, I have come to take your shatement...” He gave a hiccup, listing heavily to the left until Cage caught him by the arm. “We’ve been shelebrating.”  
Abigail glanced at Cage and the Kid in turn. “So I see. Anything in particular?”  
“Thish cashe,” the inspector slurred, prodding at the air with an off-target forefinger. “All neatly tied up.”  
Cage gave a wry smile. “We just need to get your statement signed for the inspector, Mrs. Stewart. I took the liberty of getting one typed up at the Pinkerton offices, based upon the statement you have already given. We can go over it, and get it signed, and then the local investigation will be over.”  
Abigail stepped aside, holding the door open. “Please, do come in.”  
The inspector was hustled indoors, with Cage and the Kid holding an armpit each, she stopped them at the door of the sitting room. He might be three sheets to the wind, but he may still be sober enough to notice irregularities. “Let me go in and light the lamps, Mr. Smith is napping in there.” She smiled at the inspector. “Couldn’t let him go to a hotel, not with this injuries, and he’s been so brave.”  
“I know you were a Pinkerington, Miss Shtewart,” he tried to tap the side of his nose - and missed. “That’ll be our lil sheecret.”  
“Thanks,” Abigail frowned at his two supporters. “Just give me a minute.”   
Abigail poured the inspector a cup of black coffee, and sat in the chair, giving Cage and the Kid a censorious glare. “So, you have my statement. Shall we go over it?”  
Blewitt waved a hand airily in her direction. “Fssht! No need is there, Miss Shhh... Shht.. missus,” He gave a body wracking hic, making the coffee swirl and lap around the china cup. The Kid stepped in to save the rug by deftly removing it from his hand. The inspector leaned forward. “Sho! You were a Pinkerington? A woman?”  
Abigail gave a wry smile. “A Pinkerington? Yes... I did work with them, before I had a family.”  
Blewitt shook his head in confusion. “But you look normal. I’d have introduced you to my wife and everything. You don’t look like a... like a...”  
Cage bristled, but Abigail remained sanguine. “Fallen woman?”  
The drunken police officer gave another hiccough. “Yesh.”  
“What makes you think that a woman has to be easy to be in employment?”  
Heyes gave a light groan. Blewitt was rapidly getting out of his depth, and they needed him on their side, but some subjects were like a red rag to a bull as far as she was concerned.  
“Shure... shome women need to work,” Blewitt was warming to his subject, his face reddening in the firelight. “The ones who’ve got no men to look after them. Now my wife, she’s a real lady. I always open the door for her.”  
“How kind of you, I mastered that skill a few years ago. It was a relief, I can tell you.” Abigail smiled into Blewitt’s glazed eyes. “I want to assure you that I come from a respectable family, Inspector – and I am not in the habit of behaving indecorously.”  
“Well, shure ma’am, not no more,” Blewitt shrugged, before launching into a leer. “But I bet, in your day...” he winked at the Kid, nudging at him. “You know what I’m shayin’ don’t ya? We all shee women on the shide. I bet law women ain’t no different?? Know what I mean??” The elbow jabbed the Kid again, who just dropped his head, before Blewitt grinned at Abigail, suddenly grasping the disapproval burning in her dark eyes. “Women!? They just don’t understand a double standard.”   
Cage stood. “Why don’t I get you in a cab, and these signed statements around to the police station, huh? Then our business here is concluded. I bet that wife of yours is waiting to see you home. She’s probably got a nice dinner ready.”  
“I don’t know about that,” muttered Blewitt. “It’s tripe and onions night, and she ain’t so keen on the drink. I met her at work, you know. Shomebody broke into the shop she worked in. Man, I really should’ve called for backup.”  
“How did they get in?” asked Abigail.  
“In the shop? Through the storeroom window. Why?”  
Abigail shrugged. “Maybe it was your wife? Her difficulties with doors... maybe?”  
Blewitt’s head wobbled. “Huh?”  
Abigail stood. “I must just do something before you pop off, Inspector.”  
Blewitt gave a bellowing laugh. “Pop off?” He nudged the Kid again. “Did you hear that? She said ‘Pop off.’ You English folks make me laugh with your quaint shayin’s!”  
“I’m only sittin’ here,” murmured the Kid. “I heard.”  
“English!?” Abigail propped her hands on her hips. “I’m not English.”  
“Well, Shcottish. Shame fing, ain’t it?”  
Heyes dropped his head into his hands. Abigail was touchy about her nationality.  
“It is NOT the same thing! It’s like calling you Canadian.”  
Blewitt raised his hands in appeasement “Now, shteady on... Ain’t no call for that kind of thing...”  
Cage stood, ushering Blewitt to his feet. “Let’s get that Cab, huh?”  
Abigail disappeared into the kitchen, leaving the Kid and Blewitt to sway their way to the doorway. It took about ten minutes of swaying and wobbling before Cage returned, gesturing towards the street with his head. “I got a Hansom, come on. Give me a hand.”  
“Wait!” Abigail stood in the hallway, smiling serenely. She walked over to the drunken police officer and adjusted his scarf, her hands playing around his neck and smoothing it all the way down, before fastening up all the buttons on his greatcoat. “You’ve been so kind, Inspector. I can’t let you go without saying thank you.” She propped herself up on her tiptoes and dropped a light kiss on his cheek. “Now, off you go home,” she waved from the doorway as the men poured him into the cab. “Enjoy your tripe!”  
She turned, finding herself bathed in Heyes’ cynical scrutiny. “What’ve you done?”  
Her eyes widened innocently. “Done? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  
The Kid strode in, closing the door behind him. “Cage has gone to drop the completed file off at the police station. That should be the end of it here,” his eyes narrowed, picking up on the guarded looks. “What’s goin’ on?”  
“She’s done something, to get back at Blewitt,” Heyes put his hands on his hips.   
“Don’t be silly. What could I have done?” She walked back towards the kitchen, but Heyes darted out a hand, catching her by the wrist.   
“Abigail, I know you! Come on. Tell me.” She pulled at her wrist, but stopped as they were both convulsed in pain. “You hurt as much as I do when you pull, so leave it out. What have you done?”  
“Using my Sunday name isn’t going to get around me,” she snorted, “especially as I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  
“What’s in your hand?” Heyes demanded. She raised her free hand, opening it to show it was empty. Heyes reached out and turned it over. “Show me the back.” He sucked in a breath at the imprint of a kiss in lip rouge on her hand. “You’ve just set him up, haven’t you?”  
“What ARE you talkin’ about, Heyes. What has she set him up for?”  
“Tell him, Abi.” He shook his head, “you’d have been a great flimflammer – just the best.”   
She stood, silently simmering in defiance.   
The Kid threw up his hands in exasperation. “Abi, we can’t mess with the police. We need them to accept our version of events and move on, quickly.”  
“He’s already accepted them, Jed. He’s signed the paperwork and Cage is filing it at the police station. Besides, he’ll be too busy tomorrow; he’ll have things to worry about besides a closed case.”  
It was the Kid’s turn to be concerned. “Busy with what, Abi?”  
“That lip rouge, on your hand,” Heyes sighed. “You pressed that on his collar when you were helping him with his scarf, didn’t you?”  
“Me?” Abigail shrugged. “I must have got it off his collar.”  
Heyes dragged a finger over her lips. “You only wear rouge when you’re adopting a role. You rouged your lips, pressed it on your hand, kissed him on the cheek and also pressed the one on your hand on his collar. He’s in big trouble when his wife sees all that!”  
Abigail tipped her chin up defiantly. “Well, he was obnoxious. He accused me of being a loose woman in my own home; then he discussed cheating on his wife – to top it all off, he accused me of being English!”  
“English?” the Kid chortled. “You sound as bad as Grandpa Curry.”  
“Well, we had a potato famine in the Highlands too. We lost nearly two million people and they did nothing to help us either. Nobody talks about that, though, do they? I AM NOT English.”   
The Kid folded his arms. “That was the 1840s, Abi. You weren’t even born then. I’ve seen you with English people. You don’t hate them.”  
“Old countries have long memories, they’re fine as individuals, but as a nation!? They’re a parcel o’ rogues.”   
“Is that what bothered you the most?” Kid’s disbelieving blue eyes glanced between Abi and Heyes, “That he called you English? He was close to gettin’ a crack on the jaw from me in there, but not for that. You’re unbelievable, Abi.”  
Heyes grabbed his ribs. “Stop it, don’t make me laugh. You’re hurting my chest. You’re being ridiculous. You got on with that old English woman at The Hole like a house on fire. You protected the boy.”  
“I don’t hate the people. I just don’t want to be one.”  
The Kid shook his head. “Just like Grandpa Curry. Completely unreasonable.”   
She gave a harrumph of indignation. “Ceart gu leòr.”  
“Yup, that sounds kinda like the snarls he used to give too,” chortled the Kid.  
Abigail stalked through to the kitchen to start dinner. “I just said, you were right enough. Does it matter what tipped me over the edge? Blewitt insulted me, he deserved it all.”  
“All?” Heyes asked.   
She gave him a twinkle of mischief. “He’s going home with a kiss on his cheek, lip rouge on his collar, and a note from a lady in his pocket.” Her eyes widened innocently. “Hey, I haven’t set him up for anything he didn’t do. He admitted it. Anyway, that’s the least of his problems.”  
Heyes groaned. “What else did you do, Abi?”  
“Me? Nothing. It’s his wife who cooked tripe and onions. Just imagine that smell tomorrow morning, when he’s got a hangover, and an angry wife.”  
“I didn’t think you could surprise me anymore, but remind me not to fall out with you. Abi. You’re as bad as Heyes.” The Kid rubbed his face. “And don’t think I missed the fact that you only admit somebody else is right in a language only you speak. Heyes has a similar trick – but he uses big words.”

Harry paced back and forth in front of the secretary's desk becoming more and more agitated as time went by. This was ridiculous! Just how many times was he expected to be able to drop everything and go traipsing off to some 'foreign' country in order to follow up on leads!? And in the middle of winter at that!! Who did they think he was anyways? Some simple errand boy!? 'Harry—go bring Abi back, will you?' 'Harry—buy better clothes; we're heading to Missouri!' 'Here Harry, take notes—there's a good man'. And now? 'We have a lead Harry! Head back to Missouri—NOW!' Geesh! Those boys are lucky that George Bannerman had been willing to allow Harry yet another leave of absence! Things must be slow at the agency.  
Then Harry's angry musings were interrupted by Thompson discreetly clearing his throat.  
“Warden Reece will see you now,” Thompson announced as he stood up and went to open the office door for him.  
“Oh!” Harry was suddenly all pleasant efficiency, though he briefly wondered how Thompson could have known that the warden was ready for him right then. “Thank you my good man,” he blustered. “We have important business to discuss. Yessir!”  
“Yes sir,” Thompson mimicked him while hiding a bit of a smirk. “If you'll just step in to the office.”  
Kenny came forward to shake Harry's hand while sending a quick nod to Thompson to close the door on his way out. “Mr. Briscoe, nice to see you again.”  
“Warden,” Harry returned the greeting. “What is it that the Bannerman Detective Agency can do for you today?”   
“Have a seat, Mr. Briscoe,” Kenny offered and then returned to sit down at his own place behind the desk. “I realize that Heyes' telegram to you would have been brief.”  
“Sure was!” Harry harrumphed. “Head back to Missouri. See Warden first. Now!” Kenny couldn't help but smile at the detective's indignant stance. “What am I, his trained puppet?” Harry continued to bluster. “I'm a Bannerman Man! I can't just drop everything at the snap of his fingers! 'See Warden first'! It's not like Wyoming is on the way to Missouri ya' know! Now I gotta back track....”  
“Yes, Mr. Briscoe.” Kenny effectively cut him off, but inwardly thinking that there was something that Harry Brisco and Hannibal Heyes had in common; they could both talk a blue streak if given free rein to do so. “I understand the inconvenience. But this is important.”  
“I should certainly hope so.” Harry puffed himself up with self-importance. “Those boys know who to call when something really needs to get done! Yessir!”  
Kenny leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of him. A smile played about his lips, but then he became all business again and sitting up he pulled a folder out of his desk drawer and set it on his desk top. Harry eyed it suspiciously as Kenny flipped the folder open to reveal some paperwork and a photograph.  
“Did Heyes ever speak to you about the former warden of this prison, Mr. Briscoe?” Kenny asked him. “A Mr. George Mitchell?”  
Harry sat back in his chair, a slightly suspicious expression crossing his face. “Ahh, a Mr. Mitchell?” Harry was trying to rack his brains, not wanting to appear uninformed during this meeting, but he wasn't coming up with anything. “Ah, no. Can't say that he did.”  
Kenny nodded. “Well, I can't say that that's surprising,” he admitted, instantly relieving Harry's concern. “I don't suppose Heyes would have talked about him much. But now, it seems there may be a possibility that Mr. Mitchell is involved in our case to some degree.”  
Harry sat up straight again, suddenly very interested. “Involved? In what way?”  
“As you recall, Mr. Harris confided that Mr. Carson, who was a former guard here at the prison was the person who instigated the escape attempt and who was also behind the attempts on Miss Jordan's life.”  
“Yeah,” Harry nodded.  
“Well, it seems that Heyes has had the opportunity recently to have a word with Mr. Carson,” Kenny informed the detective. “From what I understand they had a very interesting conversation. Mr. Carson admitted to a number of the charges being levelled at him, but hinted that the trail did not end with him. Unfortunately he did not tell Heyes who was behind all these incidences but we now have reasons to suspect that it was Mr. Mitchell.”  
“The warden was behind an escape from his own prison?” Harry asked incredulously.  
“Apparently so,” Kenny admitted a bit reluctantly. “And, perhaps even in the death of Dr. Morin and in the attempted murder of myself and of Heyes by Hank Boeman.” Kenny sighed, even he felt uncomfortable with the growing list of suspected crimes. “And also with Carl Harris' attempts on Miss Jordan's life and Floyd Carson's more resent assault upon Mrs Stewart.”  
Harry sat up even straighter, his mouth dropping in astonishment. “This Carson fella assaulted Abi!?”  
Kenny nodded.   
“And he's still alive to talk about it!?” Harry couldn't believe his ears.   
“Ah, actually no.” Again, Kenny couldn't help the subtle smile. “He and Heyes had a bit of an—altercation. Mr. Carson unfortunately did not survive the encounter.”  
Harry snorted. “Yeah—I don't doubt it!” Then he showed actual concern. “Say, this isn't going to affect Heyes' parole is it?”  
Kenny shook his head. “No. The Pinkerton agent who is working with them has taken care of the incident.”  
“Oh, well....I certainly hope so. You know those Pinkerton's....”  
“Apparently this one seems to know his job, Mr. Briscoe,” Kenny humoured him. “Everything along those lines has been taken care of.”  
“Good! That's good to hear,” Harry conceded. “So what do they need me down there for? Why don't they just go and arrest this Mitchell fella and be done with it!?”  
“That's where you come in Mr. Briscoe.”  
“Oh.”  
“We don't know for sure that it is Mitchell,” Kenny explained. “but we do know that he went to stay with family in Missouri after he—retired. Both Harris, as you know, and then Carson were apprehended in Kansas which is close enough to Missouri to suggest that they both could have had dealings in that state. And now there has been other information surface which also suggests that Mr. Mitchell is indeed involved.   
“Apparently some money was wired to Mr. Carson from the Union Pacific office in Jacksonville, Missouri and what we would like you to do, Mr. Briscoe; is to take this photograph of Mr. Mitchell to that office in Jacksonville and show it around. If we can get an identification from the people there that this is indeed the person who wired the money to Mr. Carson then that would be enough for authorities to obtain a warrant and arrest Mr. Mitchell.”  
“So...that's all you want me to do?” Harry asked, again suspicious. “Just take that photograph to Missouri and get a positive I. D?”  
“Yes.”  
“Seems an awful lot of bother just for that,” Harry complained. “Why don't ya' just send the photograph to the sheriff's office down there and get them to do the identifying?”  
“Because we need one of our own men on the scene,” Kenny placated the detective. “Someone we know we can trust. Someone who can make things happen as soon as we know for sure.”  
Harry puffed himself up again. “Oh well, of course,” he stated matter of factly. “No one better than a Bannerman man to make sure things get done.” Then he unpuffed himself and sent Kenny a conspiratory look. “Ahhh...what things?”  
Kenny sighed but hid it well. “A warrant, Mr. Briscoe,” he told him. “And if not that, then at least an address where he can be found?”  
“Oh, of course!” Harry agreed. “By all means! I'll get the job done, by all means...yessir! Nothing like a Bannerman man......”  
Kenny sighed again.

Abigail watched Doctor Miser disappear down the street from her sitting room window.  She turned, smiling at Heyes and the Kid.  “So, we’re allowed to go out, as long as we’re sensible, and don’t go ice-skating or stunt-riding.  How about it?”  
“I ain’t goin’ skatin’, Abi,”  the Kid sat back in his chair.  “What did you have in mind?”  
“It’s Christmas eve tomorrow,” Abigail sighed.  “I want to go to Kansas City.  I miss Anya, and I bet you two miss the Jordans.  How about it?”  
Heyes sat upright, his eyes flaring with surprise.  “Go and see Anya?”  
She nodded.  “It’s Christmas, and I want to spend it with my loved ones.  All of them – together.  I don’t care where it is.”  
“Can we do that?  Isn’t it dangerous?” Heyes pressed.  
“Carson is dead, if Mitchell is behind this, he’s probably taken to the hills.  Cage is going to see his son and his sister; we can easily disguise ourselves for the journey.”  She cast imploring eyes around the room.  “The risk is tiny for just one visit.  What d’you say?”  
Heyes stood and laughed out loud. “What do I say!?”  He strode over to Abigail and clutched both cheeks in his hands, planting a big kiss on her lips.  “If I didn’t have chest burns I’d show you a lot more gratitude than that!”  
She reached up and stroked his hair.  “And what about you, Jed?  Shall we prepare for a Christmas visit?”  
He shook his head, still finding it hard to believe that he was going to see Beth again so soon.  “If we’re disguised, and we make sure we ain’t followed, I can’t see a problem.  I think the chase is goin’ in the other direction now.”  
Abigail reached an arm around Heyes, pulling him to her.  “Then it’s agreed.  Let’s go shopping.  We can’t turn up empty handed, can we?”  
“What about Cage?” Heyes asked, his brow furrowing, “Doesn’t he have a say in it?  His son and sister are there.”  He grinned as a thought struck him.  “Hey!  I’m supposed to stay with him, after all.”  
“I’ve run it passed him, and he’s of the same opinion as the rest of us.”  Abigail shrugged.  “I just need to send a telegram to Mayzee.”  
Heyes rubbed his hands together gleefully.  “Well?  What are we waiting for?”  His face fell as a thought hit him.  “What can I get Anya for Christmas?  I don’t have much money.”  
The Kid stood.  “Heyes, don’t worry about that.  I guess between Abi and me, we can sort that.  Besides, don’t kids just play with the boxes?”  
   
   
Heyes’ stomach was fluttering with nerves, overwhelmed by the prospect of presenting his daughter with his first gift.  What would he get her, what could he afford?  What if she hated it, and just tossed his present aside?  He looked into the joyfully garish toyshop window, and then looked back down at the money in his hands.  This was probably the single most important thing he would ever buy.  What was good enough?  The street was busy, jammed with shoppers and the proximity of so many bustling people jangled his nerves.  He started to breathe rapidly, his breath coming in great gasps of anxiety.  This was too much; too many people, lights, choices... this had to be perfect... his head started to whirl and his hands started to tingle.  The walls of the dark cell started to close in.      
Abigail slipped a gloved hand around his arm.  “Something small will be absolutely fine, Mr. Heyes.  It’s the thought that counts.”  
“Yeah,” he murmured, “the thought... but all I can think about is what I was doing this time last year.”  He shook his head in bemusement.  “I never thought for one second that one year later I’d be here, with you, buying a Christmas present for Anya...”  His voice gave a rasp of emotion, the memories suddenly engulfing him.  The light went out in his eyes, snuffed by suffocating horror.  He struggled to breathe.  “I thought I’d be dead,” he whispered.  
Abigail hugged into his arm.  “Mr. Heyes, I know.  It floods back, and suddenly your mind is there again.  You can feel it, smell it, see it, and your body starts to react the way it did when you were facing those terrible times.  It shuts good things down, and opens up ugly sores.  Remember what I told you?”  She stepped in front of him, fixing him with an intense stare.  “Look at me, Mr. Heyes.”  She stared up at the unfocused darkness in his eyes, but they were vacant and lost.  She took both arms and gave him a shake.  “Mr. Heyes!”  
The focus suddenly snapped into place, and he engaged with her, but they still swirled with shadows.  Abigail smiled.  “Mr. Heyes, this is normal.  I told you this would happen, didn’t I?  I said there’d be times when the past flooded back and swamped you, but they get less and less,” she pulled at his arm, dragging him back to reality.  “And it has gotten less frequent.  It’s better, and it will improve from here.  I know because I’ve been through it.  Trust me.  Just breathe calmly, and slowly...”  
An involuntary smile twitched at his lips.  “Yeah, I guess.”  
“Do you want to know what I think?” she linked an arm with him and urged him to walk with her.  “My suggestion that you meet Anya was an emotional jolt, and your mind has trained itself to associate those with the terrible things which were done to you.”  
Heyes stopped and turned to her.  “That makes sense... kinda.”  
“Well, even if I’m wrong, there’s no harm in helping you to see they can be wonderful too.”  
“What do you suggest,” he nodded.  “I don’t think I can take much more ‘wonderful’ today.  I can hardly deal with the stuff I’ve got.”  
She pursed her lips pensively.  “You’ve got an hour before Jed meets up with us again.  Why don’t we sit down for some tea and have a chat about what you could get her?  A book would be good; a lovely keepsake with an inscription.”  
“Yeah, I thought about that, but I would have to write it in an alias.  It wouldn’t even have my own name on in.”  
She nodded.  “I see, well, let’s have a think and let this sink in a little bit at a time over a cup of tea.  Remember what I told you about baby steps?  This is huge for you, so let’s cut it down to bite-size pieces.  How much do you have, and what can you get for that amount?”  Abigail laid a gentle hand on his arm.  “Don’t build this up too much; it’s just a little gift.  Jed was right anyway, they always end up playing with the boxes.  When children look back at Christmas they remember the day, the joy, the people.  The simple gifts are the best ones, you know.”  
Heyes nodded.  “I guess... I need to think of something simple.”  
   
   
Heyes stared into the jeweller’s window.  It was tiny, inexpensive, and sleek.  It seemed so perfect in its simplicity, and he wondered if she’d understand the hidden meaning.  Well, there was only one way to find out.  He walked into the shop, his grating nerves jangling along with the brass bell attached to the door.  Would it be enough?  
The shop assistant seemed to appear out of the gloom like an apparition, his gnarled hands meeting in front of him in a gesture of helpful supplication. “Can I help you, sir?”  
Heyes nodded.  “Yes, please,” he pointed.  “In the window...” the clerk followed his pointing finger.  “Yes, that one.”  
The little object was scooped up, and its neighbours quickly pushed in to fill the gap in the window display.  “Would sir like this gift wrapped?”  
“I’d like a chain too.”  
The assistant’s bushy eyebrows crawled upwards.  “This is a charm, sir.  It’s meant to go on a bracelet.”  
“I want a chain.  For the neck.”  
“Is sir sure?  The lady may want to exchange it?”  
Heyes’ lips firmed into a line.  “Sir is sure.  Show me your chains.”  
   
   
Cage stared out of the window at the swirling white flakes fading the dark street to grey.  “Where is he, Abi?  You promised me he’d be accompanied at all times.  You’re back making dinner, Curry’s packin’, and I’m fit to be tied.  YOU PROMISED ME!  My name’s on the case.  What if he disappears?  What do I say?”  
Abigail rolled her eyes.  “Look!  He’ll be here; he just wanted some privacy to buy a few Christmas gifts so they’d be a surprise.  He’s meeting his daughter tomorrow, for the first time since she was born.  There’s no way he’s going to throw his parole out of the window and miss that.”  She poked a knife into a pot, testing the potatoes.  She gave a nod of satisfaction and poured them into the colander in the sink.  “You’ve clearly got a lot of excess energy.  Put it to use and mash those for me.”  
Cage frowned.  “I don’t cook unless there’s a campfire involved, Abi.”  
She held his firm gaze with a wry smile.  “This isn’t cooking.  It’s smashing things, and I think that’ll be good for you.  Did you know that the word ‘smashing’ is one of the words taken from Gaelic?  It comes from, ‘s math sinn.’  The pronunciation is almost exactly the same, but it’s been anglicized.”  
“So?” Cage growled.  
“It translates to ‘that’s good,’” she walked over and thrust the potato masher into his hand.  “Get yourself over there, and have a smashing time – it’ll use up some of that heat.”  She touched him lightly on the arm.  “I’m not Emily, Cage.  I’m helping a houseful of men in an investigation.  If you think that also makes me your cook, you’re very much mistaken.  I’m not your wife.  I’m here as a detective.  Get mashing.”  
“I'll help.  I set the table,” Cage retorted, defensively.  
She nodded, “Yes, but if you want to eat here tonight, you need to do a bit more.  I have other things to do.”       
There was a knock at the door, catching a reluctant Cage in mid-mash.  His blue eyes darted up to Abigail in question.  “I’ll get it,” Abigail nodded.  “It’ll be him.  I’m sure of it.”  
She pulled open the door, her plush mouth twitching into a smile.  “Mr. Heyes, we’ve been worried about you.  What on EARTH have you got there?”  
He strode into the hallway, pulling off his hat and shaking the snow from the brim.  He propped a huge flat parcel against the wall.  “A surprise, Abi.  Simple gifts, you said.  That’s what I went for.”      
“It’s nearly as tall as you are!  What is it?  A flattened box?”  
“Yup.  The children always play with the box, you and Kid both said that, but this is a very special box.”  
Abigail fingered the cardboard, confusion crowding her frown.  “You got Anya a box?”  
He dropped a kiss on her cheek, leaving three more small parcels on the stairs.  “Not just any box, Abi.  An extra special box.  You’ll see.”  He sniffed the air, walking towards the kitchen.  “Cage?  You’re cooking?”  
“Nope,” Cage gave a harrumph.  “I’m helpin’ Abi.  She ain’t just here to look after us, you know.  What’re you gonna do to help?”     
“Dunno,” he gave a light shrug.  Abigail’s heart did a flip of gratification at the lightness dancing in his eyes again.  “What d’ya need?”  
She shrugged.  “Table setting?  Then get cleaned, it won’t be long.”  
   
                      
Heyes punched at his pillow, sleep still evading him.  What time was it?  Unusually he could tell but not on this night. He turned on his back and stared up to the ceiling.  Somehow it seemed difficult to even close his eyes.  They remained resolutely open, lively and active; which seemed fair enough, as his mind was buzzing; full of musings and imaginings of tomorrow.  The irony of the situation hit him.  He was just like an excited child on Christmas Eve – because he was finally preparing to surprise a child for Christmas.  
His brow furrowed, thinking of the big, flattened box in the hallway.  It had seemed such a good idea at the time, but now?  He wasn’t so sure.  It just seemed cheap and tacky, but didn’t children love that?  Well, he’d find that out soon enough.  
What choice did he have?  He had next to no money, and it was important to him to him to buy gifts for Abi and Anya with money he’d earned honestly as a hand at the Double J.    
“Heyes,” the Kid’s voice drifted through the darkness.  “If you don’t stop huffin’ and puffin’ I’ll come over there and give you somethin’ to puff about.”  
“Sorry, Kid.  I just can’t sleep.”  
“Well, don’t sleep, but do it quietly,” the Kid’s voice softened.  “Are you alright?”  
“Yeah, I’m good, I’m just...”  Heyes sighed.  “I can’t stop thinking about tomorrow.”  
There was a burning silence in the darkness, pregnant with unspoken thoughts, but Heyes could feel the Kid’s eyes on him.  “Yeah, Heyes.  It’s a big thing.  She’s a real sweet kid, and you’ll love her.”  
“Kansas, huh?”  
“Whad’ya mean?”  
“Families and Kansas.  It always seems to come back down to here, doesn’t it?”  
“I hadn’t thought about it, but I guess it does.  Everythin’ comes back down to Kansas, and what happened here.”  
“And now it comes back down to a new start.  Life goes in circles.”  
“Well that’s good, ain’t it?”  
“Yeah, I’m just thinking too much.  Anya living here’s nothing like our folks.  Go back to sleep, Kid.” Heyes dragged himself up, pulling on some pants.  “I’m going to make some tea.  It’s not fair to keep you up.”  
   
   
   
“What you doing down here?”  
Heyes awoke with a start, seeing Abigail’s smiling face standing over him.  “I couldn’t sleep.”  
“So I saw.  That was the deepest ‘not sleeping’ I’ve seen in many a long year.  That’s quite the snoring problem, if you do it when you’re awake.”   
“I don’t snore,” he protested.  
“Of course you don’t.  When you sleep, it’s like the fairies themselves are singing a lullaby into the velvet ears of baby rabbits nestled on clouds...” she smiled, sitting beside him on the settee and handing him a cup of coffee.  “Are you alright?”  
He smiled, rubbing the sleep from his face.  “Yeah, I’m good.  I guess I just got a bit – worked up.”  
“Wondering if she’ll like you, and if she’ll hate your present?”  
Heyes nodded.  “How did you know?”  
She gave his leg a playful pat.  “Because that’s what anyone would think in your position, I’m not psychic!”  She stood, “go and get washed and dressed.  We’re leaving on the one o’clock train, and we need to get our disguises perfected.  I’m nipping out to the shop to get a turkey.”  
“I thought we were going to Mayzee’s?”  
“We are, Mr. Heyes, but I can’t bring a party this size, and turn up empty handed.  I’m taking a turkey and a couple of pies for dessert.”  She walked into the hallway, and stared at the enormous flattened box, still propped against the wall.  “What on earth have you got her?”  
Heyes groaned.  “Don’t!  I’m nervous enough already.  I’m takin’ a risk, and I pray to God that it pays off.”  
She grinned.  “Whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll be memorable.  Come on, let’s get weaving.  It’s Christmas Eve and there’s a lot to do.”   
   
  The train ride back through Colorado and then into Kansas was anything but thrilling. Harry sat and read the newspapers most of the time even though every little small town paper seemed to carry the same type of small town story. There was always the fight in the saloon over the poker game, the sheriff tracking down a wayward husband—or family pet. Who was seeing whom behind so and so's back, etc. All small towns seemed to be the same.   
Even when Harry did take a distracted glance out the window at the sliding by landscape he tended to echo Wheat and Kyle's unsavoury opinion of this part of the countryside. They'd all spent plenty enough time in it too when they had been on the hunt here earlier in the year. Harry snorted in disgust! And Heyes and Kid spent their childhoods in this bleak land? No wonder they became outlaws!  
Then finally!! After two different train connections, innumerable delays due to broken rails, livestock on the tracks, rock slides, mud slides, snow slides or just simply setting out on a siding waiting for a west bound train to go by so they could carry on, they arrived at their destination. Harry really was beginning to hate train travel by the time the engine finally puffed its weary way into Jacksonville, Missouri. He needed a drink.  
Harry bundled himself together, stretched out his aching muscles and tried to brush the wrinkles out of his suit, all the while grabbing his small satchel of baggage, his coat and his hat and joining in amongst the throng trying to disembark. Once he stepped out onto the platform he was glad for his coat and setting down his satchel he quickly bundled himself up in the warm apparel. He straightened himself out, put on his self-important air and then did a quick scrutiny of the town. Hmm, didn't look too much different from all the other towns he'd been through.  
Hunger was nagging at him and since he didn't see the Western Union Office anywhere in close proximity he decided to get a hotel room and then go grab a bite to eat before heading off in search of the local money wiring service. As usual, he didn't have far to go for the hotel since any hotel owner with a lick of business sense would know that the best place for a lodging establishment would be right next to the train station! And the best place for a cafe would be right next to the hotel, and the best place for a saloon....well, you get the picture.  
Harry got the picture too and he stood for a moment on the station platform and looked from one establishment to the other, debating which one to patronize first. Fortunately common sense won out and the disgruntled Bannerman man headed for the hotel. Unfortunately by the time he had made up his mind, he found himself in quite a cue to get a room. It seems that numerous travellers had decided to end their journey in Jacksonville—though Harry couldn't fathom why—and all of them had hurried to the hotel to make sure they got the room of their choice. Harry would have to settle for whatever was left.  
As it happened, a single room with a single bed and no real view to speak of—what was there to look at anyways—seemed to be all that was left and that just suited Harry fine.  
“Would you like a bath sent up?” asked the clerk, trying to solicit more business. “Or perhaps—laundering?”   
“No, no I'll be fine,” Harry declined. “A shave and a wash cloth is all I'll be needing.”  
“Hmm, and how long will you be staying?”  
“When is the next west bound train?”  
“Tuesday evening, 7:00 p.m.”  
“Then I'll be staying until Tuesday evening, 6:30 p.m.” Harry grumbled. Then he brightened up and tried to become all business like in his crumpled suit. “Where will I find the Western Union offices?”  
“They're over on Colter Street,” the clerk informed him. “That's two blocks down and one over. They'll be open all day...” Then his nose rose into the air just a bit. “...and they're willing to do business with just about anyone.”  
“Hmm, yes! Very good,” Harry smiled and nodded, missing the insult altogether. “I'll just get settled into my room and then go have a word with them—we have business to discuss!”  
“Um hmm.”  
Ninety minutes later found Harry cleaned up, well fed and introducing himself to the clerk behind the counter at the Western Union Office.  
“Good morning, Mr....?”  
“Rosenberg, sir.”   
“Rosenberg, eh?” Harry repeated, giving the man what was meant to be an intimidating glare. The clerk passively gazed back at him. “I've got some questions for you Rosenberg.”  
“Yessir, how can I be of help?”  
“How observant are you Rosenberg?” Harry demanded with an authoritarian air. “Do you think you can recognize a man who may have been in here a week or so ago?”  
“I'm not sure,” Rosenberg admitted. “What was the gentleman's name?”  
“That's what I need you to tell me!” Harry was mildly incredulous. “It wouldn't help too much if I told you his name now would it!?”  
Rosenberg shrugged, not quite sure where this was going. “Well, can you describe him? Was he wearing anything that might stand out?”  
“I don't need to describe him!” Harry blustered. “I have a photograph of him right here! How in the world do you expect to be able to tell me who he is if you can't see a picture of him!?”  
“Oh. Well I....”  
“That's alright.” Harry calmed down and became consoling. “You can't be expected to understand all this law enforcement stuff. Just relax, there's nothing for you to be concerned about. I just need you to answer some questions that's all.”  
“Yessir.”  
Harry reached into his breast pocket and pulled out the photograph of Mitchell and showed it to the clerk. Mr. Rosenberg took the photo and with furrowed brows, scrutinized it with some intensity.  
“So,” Harry asked impatiently. “you do recognize him?”  
“Well, yes I think so,” Rosenberg surmised. “It's not a very good photograph but I believe that is a friend of Ed's.”  
“Ed's?” Harry asked.  
“Ah, yeah.” Rosenberg scratched his head. “Ed Stanton. He works at the newspaper office here in town. He and his wife have a place just on the outskirts.”  
“Well, did he come in here in the last ten days or so and send a wire to anyone?”  
Rosenberg shrugged. “I donno. A name would help.”  
“Mitchell,” Harry finally informed him. “George Mitchell.”  
“Mitchell huh?” Rosenberg repeated. “I can take a look at our records to see if he sent a wire recently, but without some kind of official permission, I can't really tell you....”  
“Official Permission!?” Harry bellowed and pulling out his wallet, flipped it open to show his credentials. “I'm from the Bannerman Detective Agency! This Mitchell is a suspect in an ongoing case that runs from here all the way up into Wyoming! I've been sent here to investigate this 'Mr. Mitchell', and I don't need some young, up-start of a bank clerk....”  
“It's actually a financial service....”  
“I don't care what it is!?” Harry blustered back, then he leaned forward across the counter and squinted at the clerk. “Now do you really mean to tell me that you intend to hinder the official investigation into....”  
“No, no! Ah, Mr.....” Rosenberg squinted back at the credentials Harry was still holding up. “Mr. Briscoe....no, I don't wish to hinder the investigation sir, it's just that I'd feel a lot better if you could go talk to the Police Inspector first and have him tell me that it's okay to give you this information. I don't want to lose my job Mr. Briscoe.”  
“Oh.” Harry backed off. “Oh, yeah of course.” Then he puffed himself up again. “You just carry on there Mr. Rosenberg while I go speak with the Inspector. Wouldn't want you doing anything that might cause you to lose your job!”  
“Yessir.”  
“You just see if you can find his transaction in your records and I'll be back!”  
“Yessir.”

Two hours later a rather flustered but successful Bannerman man came trudging back into the Western Union office with a police corporal purposefully leading the way.  
“Afternoon Bob,” the lawman greeted the clerk.   
Rosenberg smiled and sighed in minor relief. “Hey there Corporal Reddikopp, good to see you. I wasn't sure if it was alright to just hand over information like this to just anybody.”  
Harry snorted in the background and was about to protest the insult but the corporal held up his hand to silence him and Harry settled for grumbling instead.  
“You were wise to check it out first Bob,” the corporal assured him. “You never know who might come traipsing in here and asking for confidential information and it wouldn't do at all to just hand it out to anybody off the street.”  
“Anybody off the street!!?” Harry was indignant. “I'll have you know that I came all the way from Wyoming to get this information! This is an official police investigation...!”  
“Yes, yes, I know.” Reddikopp appeased the detective with an indication of redundancy. “It's alright Bob, you can give him any information you've been able to dig up. Mr. Briscoe's references all check out. He's legit.”  
Another snort from Harry. Bob smiled.  
“Okay, thank you Corporal Reddikopp.” He nodded with relief. “And I did actually find out a thing or two from our records.”  
“You did!?” Harry came forward then, totally ignoring the police officer. “What did you find?”  
“I'll leave you two gentlemen to it,” Reddikopp wisely announced. “You know where to find me if you need anything else.”  
“Yes Corporal Reddikopp, that will be fine!” Harry briskly dismissed him. “I may need a warrant from your office if everything goes the way I'm hoping!”  
“One thing at a time, Mr. Briscoe,” the corporal advised him. “I don't believe Mr. Mitchell is still in town anyways. But you're welcome to go have a word with his nephew if you wish.”  
“His nephew?”  
“Yes,” Reddikopp confirmed. “Ed Stanton. He works down at the newspaper office...”  
“Oh yes, yes!” Harry dismissed the information as redundant. “I already know about him. Thank you anyway corporal. You did a fine job here!”  
Reddikopp and Rosenberg exchanged cocked eyebrows.  
“Hmm hum,” the corporal commented. “Fine Mr. Briscoe—you'll know where I'll be.”  
“Yes, yes!” Then he turned to the clerk again. “So, what do you have for me young man?”  
“Well, let's see here....” Rosenberg pulled out his ledger and flipped to some of the relevant pages. “Ahmm, we have a number of entries here. Mostly just small amounts to various people but there are two different individuals who stand out more than the others. Ahh, a 'Mitch' Harris received some money from Mr. Mitchell last year, but the more recent one was to Floyd Carson....”  
“YES!” Harry was exuberant.  
Rosenberg jumped and then looked at the Bannerman man a little dubiously. “I take it that is the name you were looking for?”  
“It certainly is young man!” Harry informed him, though his reaction could hardly have denied it. “Ah, was there a note or anything that went along with it?”  
“Yes.” Rosenberg scanned down the page with his finger and then stopped at the appropriate inscription. “Here it is. It said; ‘Wired money.  H idiot.  Birds flown J.J.  Do this quick.' and then it's signed, 'M'.” Rosenberg shrugged. “It was sent by Mr. Mitchell so I assume that's what the 'M' stands for.”  
“Yes...well probably.” Harry frowned, looking serious. “Still, in police work you don't want to assume anything! But that's alright, there's no reason for you to know that. Still, best to be sure. I'm going to need a copy of that telegram along with the date that it was sent.”  
“Oh, ah yeah. I suppose that's okay,” Rosenberg complied. He was looking forward to getting this man out of his office. “Just give me a moment and I'll write out the details for you.”  
“Fine, fine,” Harry encouraged him. “So this Mr. Stanton works right here in town does he?”  
“Yeah,” Rosenberg confirmed. “Right over at the newspaper office.”  
“And where might that be?”  
“Well you probably walked right passed it on your way here,” Rosenberg snipped, getting a little tired of this 'gentleman' and all his questions. “It's right up there on Main Street in between the café and the shoemaker's.”  
“Oh right! Of course. I certainly recall seeing that office there now that you mention it!” Harry lied. “Good man.”  
“Mmm hmm,” was the only response. The clerk then handed Harry the copy of the telegram along with all the other relevant information and was very happy to see the back of that gentleman walking out of his office.  
Harry trudged his way back up towards the main part of town, pulling his coat more snugly about himself and being thankful that at least the boardwalks were cleared of snow and ice. This really was a miserable time of year down in these areas; so damp and uninviting. He really would be happy to finish up his business here and be able to head back to the clean crispness of Colorado!  
Still, when there was a job to be done, Harry Briscoe was hardly going to be the man to back down just because of a little cold dampness! No sir! The boys were counting on him to get this information and even better; to get the man himself! Yes, Harry smiled to himself and nodded. We'll get him! Nothing Harry despised more than a law man or government official who went bad! No sir!  
Harry headed over towards the café and then did a quick survey of the surrounding area. Sure enough, the newspaper office was right there where Rosenberg had said it would be. Harry must have been really preoccupied to have not noticed that building hiding in plain sight. He harrumphed to himself and then kicking off what bits of snow that had collected on his shoes, he entered the building.  
The first thing he noticed was the overwhelming smell of ink and paper and then the clatter of one of the presses in the back chugging out the sheets for the late edition of the day. He stopped at the desk and took a look around until he finally spotted yet another relatively young man down there in the back, working the press. The noise from the machinery had prevented the sole occupant from hearing the detective's entrance and Harry had to shout to make himself heard over the racket.  
“HELLO!” he called down there. “MR. STANTON!?”  
No reaction.  
“HELLO!!!”  
The gentleman in the back jumped slightly and then glanced around. He spotted Mr. Briscoe, nodded and sent him a quick wave of acknowledgement. He then turned back to the press and finishing up what he was working on he then came up front to see what his visitor might be wanting. Perhaps there was a late breaking story that needed to be included in this edition—one never knew!  
Harry looked the man up and down. It's odd, he thought that you could almost always tell a man's profession by the clothes that he wore. This particular young man indeed had 'newspaper' written all over him. From his black slacks and white shirt to the black bands around his lower arms to protect his sleeves from ink, this man reeked of the printing industry.  
“Yes sir, what can I do for you?”  
“Are you Ed Stanton?”  
The young man's shoulders slumped; obviously not a late breaking story. “Yes. And you are?”  
“Harry Briscoe, Bannerman Detective Agency,” Harry announced, holding up his credentials for the young man to see. “I need to ask you some questions.”  
Ed Stanton sighed with weary frustration. “Haven't you people asked enough questions? Just how many times are you going to be sending someone around here? I already told that other man everything that I know.”  
Harry stood up straighter, a piercing glint coming into his eye as he glared into the young man. “Other man?” he asked. “What other man was this?”  
“The other 'law man' who came asking about our uncle!” Stanton informed Harry as though it should be obvious. “And I'll tell you the same thing I told him; Uncle George came to stay with us for awhile after he retired. He needed some time to sort out what he wanted to do now that he wasn't working any more. I suppose he figured it out, because about a week ago he suddenly announced that he was going to be moving on. Didn't know exactly where he was going, just that he had the travelling bug and off he went.”  
“Hmm, So he's not living with you any more?”  
“Isn't that what I just said?”   
“Yes, yes! No need to get uppity!” Harry warned him. “So he's moved on and you have no idea where he went?”  
“That's right!” Stanton was getting fed up with all this. “What in the world is this all about any ways? Can't a man do what he wants in this country without having every sort of law man coming around and asking stupid questions!?”  
Harry puffed up again, spewing indignation. “These are hardly stupid questions Mr. Stanton! And a man is certainly free to go where he wants and do what he wants—so long as it's legal.”  
Stanton's dark eyes darkened even more and he snarled. “What's that supposed to mean?”  
“Just what I said,” Harry informed him. “Mr. Mitchell is wanted for questioning in a number of unfortunate incidences and I strongly suggest that if you know anything about where he might be, that you tell me—right now!”  
“I already told ya'--just like I told the other fella! I don't know where he went!”  
“What about your wife?” Harry asked. “Perhaps she would have a better idea. Now if I could just...”  
“NO!” Stanton snapped at him. “You're not talking to her! That other bastard upset her so badly that she took to her bed and only recently has she felt well enough to get back to her normal routine. You're not gonna be upsetting her again!”  
“I have no intentions of upsetting her...”  
“Damn right you ain't!” Stanton cut him off. “Cause you're not going near her! And if I hear that you went to see her behind my back....”  
“No no no, Mr. Stanton,” Harry assured him. “Don't you worry about that. I don't want to upset the young lady. But this other man who was asking after your uncle; what did he want?”  
“Same thing as you,” Stanton informed him. “Wanted to know where he went. Said he had a pre-arranged meeting with him and that it was important that they get in touch...all a bunch of nonsense too! I doubt that he even was a law man! Just some ex-con coming down here trying to cause trouble for my uncle!”  
“Well, what did he look like?” Harry asked, all curious now. If somebody else was after Mitchell, law man or not, this was something the boys would need to know about.  
Stanton hesitated a moment, thinking about his answer. “Well, he was a big fella. Not fat but solid, you know. Actually not really tall either—tall enough but not huge. Just big in presence—takes up a lot of space.”  
Harry nodded, trying to look like he might know what he didn't know. “Anything else?”  
“He was older,” Stanton continued. “Light brown hair, short and starting to go gray. I think he was starting to go bald. Hard to tell though since he had his hat on most of the time.”  
“Hmm,” Harry nodded again. “Any beard or moustache?”  
“Nope. Clean shaven.”  
“Did he give his name?”  
“I don't remember!” Stanton was beginning to lose patience. “Jamieson or Patterson or something like that! All I know is that he pissed me off and I sure don't appreciate the way he spoke to my wife either! So if you two are working together....”  
“No, no we're not,” Harry assured him. He thought about the names that Stanton had just given him and he felt a certain frustration that the man couldn't think of the correct one. Something was nagging at Harry that this could be relevant. “Are you sure you can't come up with the name?” he nudged at the young man. “This could be very important.”  
He thought about it a little longer, his eyes distant and his expression intense as he tried to dig the name out from the pits of his memory. Then the light came on in Mr. Stanton's eyes. “Morrison! Yeah! That was it. Tom Morrison! What a bastard! I swear if I ever see him again...!”  
“No no!” Harry tried to calm him down and at the same time thinking that the name should mean something to him. It was vaguely familiar. “That man was not working for us! Rest assured we will track him down and find out what his interest is in this case. Don't you worry about that.”  
“Yeah, well you better find him,” Stanton grumbled. “What's this country coming to when a man like that can go around sayin' he's a law man!? Even had a badge too; US Marshal! Can you believe that!? Uncle George would have known all the marshals up that way! If he had an appointment with one of them he would have stuck around for it, don't ya' think?” Then his eyes took on a crafty look. “Come to think of it; if Uncle George knew that a Bannerman Detective was coming to see him, he would have stayed around for that too! Let me see that badge again! You're probably not even a detective are you!? What's going on here!? Are you a pair of ex-cons trying to get even with our Uncle George just cause he ran that god forsaken prison!? Is that what you're after!? You and your buddy trying to exact some sick revenge or something....!?”   
“No, no! I assure, nothing like that at all. I am a Bannerman detective!” Harry tried to placate the man, having sensed a shift in the atmosphere. “Just want to ask him some questions is all...”  
“I think you'd better leave Mr. Briscoe,” Stanton advised him quietly. “before I do something I might regret.”  
“Yes, yes of course Mr. Stanton,” Harry blustered as he made his way to the door. “And thank you for your time. Greetings to your wife....”  
“GET OUT!”

The train journey seemed interminable, chugging through the Kansas countryside, although it was actually a couple of hours. Heyes’ impatience was getting the better of him; the false beard used to age him was itching, his mind still focused nervously on the huge flattened box in the baggage car, and the Kid seemed to be more interested in the new magazine he had picked up. It was called the National Geographic and featured pictures of fascinating animals from all over the world. At least Heyes thought they must be riveting – he hadn’t poked his nose out of it for over an hour. Even those stupid fake glasses didn’t seem to get in his way.   
Heyes stared out of the window, faintly seeing his own reflection in the glass—grey and hirsute. Looking at a different visage made him realize just how thin he had become. Maybe it was the badly-fitting suit, but the face staring back at him was that of a wizened old man. He finally resolved to put some weight on, and Christmas was surely a good time to start. He dropped his head against the window, allowing the throbbing vibrations to lull him to sleep. He started to dream...  
The pounding pulse of the train’s movement seemed to insinuate itself into his mind. He was on a train, his head thrust out of the window. Anya was on the platform, dressed in the same dark dress with the lace collar she had been wearing in the photograph. She was running towards him. The train started to move, pushing him further and further away from the scurrying figure. He shouted her name, but it became lost in the rumbling wheels and the screaming of the whistle. The platform seemed to be endless, and the child kept up her pace, but she wasn’t fast enough to keep up with a train. He watched the retreating figure, exploding with frustration. He yelled out her name at the top of his voice. “Anya!!”  
He was jarred back to reality by the hand tugging on his knee. “Joshua!” He blinked up at the disguised Kid, sighing at the normality around him. Or at least, it was nearly normal. “Straighten your wig, and that damned beard’s slippin’. Sort them out,” the Kid hissed. “You can pull that lot off on the way to the school once we’re off the train.”   
Dusk came early in December and darkness was crowding around the red brick building as the wagon drew up in front. It stood starkly out against the snow in the twilight, the painted sign standing proudly above the white picket fence proclaiming the legend, “The Redmore School for Girls, Headmistress A.G Stamford.”   
Cage jumped down, reaching up to get his bags. He gave Abigail a grin. “Well, we’re here.” he nodded to Mayzee’s husband, driving the vehicle. “They have no idea?”  
“Nope, only Mayzee. We thought it’d be fun to surprise them.  
“I can’t wait to see Anya's face!” Abigail giggled.  
The Kid slid solemn blue eyes towards his cousin. Heyes was unusually quiet and still. Was this all going to be too much for him?  
They trudged up the path, carting as much of their baggage as they could manage. The flattened box was deemed too large and was to be left in the stable to be collected later. They waited while Cage battered the elaborate owl door knocker against the strike plate. It was opened by a blonde woman whose blue eyes widened as she covered her mouth with both hands to suppress a squeak of excitement. “Cage!?” She reached out and draped her arms around his neck, dragging him down to her height for an enveloping hug.   
“Lemme go, Mayzee, there’s other folks standin’ in the cold.” Cage untangled himself from his sister’s grip. “Is he awake?”  
Mayzee twinkled at her brother. “Jake’s two now, Cage. He doesn’t sleep all the time.” She gestured towards a door with her head. “They’re all in there. We also have a few girls who couldn’t go home for the holidays, so we try to make it fun for them too. They’re playing games.” She laid soft hands on Abigail’s arm. “You must be Abi. I’ve heard so much about you.” She glanced at the ex-outlaws standing politely in her hall.   
“Ma’am,” the Kid touched the brim of his hat.  
“A pleasure,” whispered Mayzee conspiratorially, her simmering blue eyes telling them that she knew a great deal more than she was saying, “well, let’s go and surprise them.”  
Heyes felt his stomach turn over, his eyes drawn to the door a few feet away. He felt the Kid touch him lightly in the small of his back. “C’mon, time to meet the family.”  
The group of children sat huddled over a bowl, threading popcorn into garlands. Mayzee clapped her hands. “Everyone, we have some surprise guests for Christmas.”  
Heyes recognized her the moment she turned, her dark, feline eyes opening the moment they fell on her mother. “Mama!” She leaped to her feet, darting across the room and hurtled herself into her mother like a human cannonball.  
Abigail buckled, her injured chest proving too much for the attack. The child dropped to her knees beside her prone mother with large worried eyes. “Mama, mama! What’s wrong!?”  
Heyes crouched down, fixing Abigail with worried eyes, but heaved a sigh of relief as she pushed herself to a sitting position and clutched her daughter to her with a laugh. “Tha ghu math! Oh, you! I swear you’ve gotten bigger, a leannan! Come here to me.” She sat on the floor, her daughter beside her and cradled her tightly, murmuring in her ear. “I’m fine, my love. You’re just such a coire!”  
“I’m sorry, mama. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”  
“Don’t be daft, I’m fine.”  
There was a squeal from across the room were J.J. and Beth had just entered the room with a fresh bowl of popcorn. “JED!!”   
The Kid strode towards them arms outstretched as the Jordans wrapped themselves about him, laughing and enfolding affectionately. “Momma’s in the kitchen.” J.J. took Jed’s hand and dragged him towards the doors at the far end of the room with Beth in tow. Momma! Momma! Guess who’s here?”   
Heyes looked down on his daughter, her glistening curls almost black against her creamy skin. It took every ounce of his self-restraint not to reach out and clutch her to him.  
Abigail darted a glance up at him. “Becky, I want you to meet a special visitor. Mr. Jones you have met before. This is Mr. Smith. He is a relative of your father’s.”  
Becky turned her face up to her father for the first time. Her face dimpled into a smile. “You’re a relative of my father’s? You knew him?”  
“A cousin.” Heyes examined her; every crease, movement and expression. His heart had already skipped a beat when she had pounded across the room. His older sister had run like that, and he’d forgotten that until the moment she brought it so vividly to life. The syncopated rhythm of those heels clattering across the floor was clearly in her blood – there was nobody around for her to learn these things from. The tilt of the chin smiling up at him was his mother’s, as was the pert little nose and the glittering smile. They were whispers of the past, transmitting ghosts down the line to the next generation. “Oh, Anya!” His eyes glistened. “You look so like my mother, and my sister. You’re just so beautiful.”  
Her little dark eyebrows rose. “Anya? Mama says that only family get to call me that, but I suppose you are.”  
He dropped to one knee. “Oh, yes, Anya. I’m family.” He stretched out a hand, which she took, giving it a jerky little handshake.   
“I’m pleased to meet you... Mr. Smith.”   
He shook his head. “Sounds a little formal. How about, ‘Uncle Han?’”  
She glanced down at her mother, still sitting on the floor, getting a nod of approval from her. “Uncle Han?” She turned running over to J.J., yelling at the top of her voice. “J.J.! J.J., come and see. I got an uncle for Christmas!” She stopped, zigzagging over to Cage who was embracing a little blond boy. “Uncle Cage, mama came. I told you she’d come for Christmas, didn’t I?”  
He ruffled her hair affectionately. “Yeah, darlin’. You did.”   
Abigail and Heyes looked at one another. “I did tell you she was a whirlwind.”  
Heyes nodded. “She’s wonderful, Abi, but I’m beginning to feel sorry for my folks for having so many of us.”   
“Me too!” Abigail nodded. “Is anyone going to help me up?”

Belle shook her head in disbelief. “Jed?” She hugged him close. “Is it over?” she whispered. Is that why you’re here?”  
He gave an apologetic sigh. “Sorry, no.” He pulled back to look into her eyes. “It’s something to do with the warden at the prison, but he’s on the run. It’s not safe to go home until we find him. I’m sorry.”  
She gave him a smile. “I’m so glad you’re here. I didn’t want to think of you spending Christmas on the trail. How did you find out who was behind it?”  
“That’s a long story, and none too Christmassy.” He glanced around the kitchen, rubbing his hands in glee. “So, lots of cookin’ goin’ on, huh?”  
She flicked him away from the cakes with a dishcloth. “Did Mayzee know you were coming?”  
“Sure did.”  
“Hmm, so that’s why she made so many pies extra for tonight. That accounts for you – but did she know about anyone else?” Beth and J.J. stood giggling together in the corner.  
“Very funny, I need to unpack. I’ll go and see where Mayzee’s plannin’ on putting us?”  
“She has the women in one dormitory, and the men in another. He’ll be able to help. We had only been told about her brother, Cage, but I’m sure she’s made arrangements for you two. Go and see Henry.”  
“Sure will,” he caught Beth up and dropped a kiss on her cheek. “I’m real pleased to see you, darlin’. I’ll be right back,” his eyes glittered dangerously at Belle before he grinned. “You can’t guard those cakes forever.”   
“Joshua’s here too?” Belle’s shook her head. “Where is he?”  
The Kid gestured to the sitting room with his head. “Meeting Anya.”  
She put a hand to her chest. “For the first time?”  
The Kid nodded. “Since she was born. He was there for that.”  
She walked over to the door. “I must see him.” 

Belle quietly opened the door leading into the living room where her dear friend was experiencing the moment of a lifetime. Her hand came up to her mouth in an unconscious effort to stifle the sob of joy and had valiantly tried to bust forth. Joshua looked so radiant—scared to death, but radiant none the less.  
Sweet Becky was smiling at him, speaking to him in her confident and unabashed role as leader of the household. It was electric when their eyes met, as though she had known him all her life and he just couldn't take her in quickly enough.  
Belle could feel her heart pounding against her chest with the raw emotion of the encounter. Was she the only one who could feel it? Oh, the similarities between them now that they were face to face—two peas in a pod! No one could be mistaken of their heritage—no one but Anya herself that is. She was still too young to be able to connect how similar this man was to her own reflection. That wouldn't mean anything to her now, not yet. She gazed upon him with fresh eyes and though, as is often the case, she felt an instant connection to him—an instant liking, she was willing to accept that he was simply a new uncle.  
Hannibal on the other hand, was in love.

Heyes sat and looked around at a perfect Christmas Eve scene, part of him still wondering how he got here. Abigail sat in a rocking chair brushing Anya’s hair as she sat on the ground in front of her, dressed in her nightclothes. The brush ran smoothly through her silky curls from root to end, time and time again, Anya leaning back against her mother’s legs, a look of sublime peace and happiness on her face. The Christmas tree was festooned in popcorn garlands, along with an array of lovingly crafted decorations, and bellies were filled to contentment; even the snow obligingly glittered with diamonds of frost as the adults sipped at glasses of porter in the cozy living room. The four boarders were also in their nightclothes, playing a board game, and Cage’s infant son, was asleep in his arms. He was reluctant to put him to bed just yet, because it had been so long since he’d last seen him, and Mayzee had been tolerant; more tolerant than either Heyes or Curry expected in a headmistress.   
The youngest of the girls left at school for Christmas crawled tentatively over to Abigail. “Please Mrs. Stewart, could you brush my hair next?”  
Belle’s eyes filled with compassion, seeing the need for some gentle human contact in the child. “Bring me your brush, Lisa. I’ll brush your hair for you.”  
The girl’s little face lit up. “You will!”  
Mayzee looked at Beth and Hester. “I’m sure if the rest of you get your brushes, Beth and Doctor Bentham will also help me, and while we’re getting your hair all ready for bed, Henry will read ‘The Night Before Christmas’ for you. Would you like that?”  
“Go get them, girls,” Hester urged. “You have to have perfect hair for tomorrow, don’t you? A hundred strokes to make it shine.”   
There was a chorus of excitement from the children who scampered off as bid. “Where are their parents?” Beth asked.  
Mayzee sat back in her chair. “In one case they are both dead and she is an inconvenience to her relatives, for the rest – they have a step-parent for whom they are a reminder of a previous relationship.” She shrugged. “I try to make sure they feel at home here. They never leave.”  
“Poor girls,” Beth mused. “Mother, Doctor Bentham, and myself have knitted them all scarves and mittens.”  
Mayzee’s eyes lit up. “You have? Oh, how lovely. I have books for them and a little frippery each,” she smiled. “They are girls, and these things give such pleasure. I do so worry about Catherine, though. She’ll be fourteen next year, and her step-father has said he’ll stop paying then. She’s so bright.”  
“You won’t turn her out, will you?” the Kid asked.  
“Mayzee shook her head. “Of course not, but she’s so clever, and needs more than I can teach her. With the right education, she could do anything,” Mayzee smiled at Hester. “Even as much as you have achieved.”  
“Really?” Hester looked over her little spectacles. “I must look at her reports. I work with groups who support women’s rights. I can try to find a sponsor for her studies.”  
“You could?”  
“I can’t promise anything,” Hester shrugged,” but at the very least I can find her a training position as a young nurse. She could have a worse start than that.”  
Mayzee nodded. “Doctor, I often have to struggle to fund education for girls, because they are seen as less important. I do believe that you and I need to talk.”  
“Not tonight,” Henry sat down in his favourite armchair and opened his book. “The girls are coming, and I have a poem to read.”  
Heyes glanced over at the Kid. “I have something to get ready for tomorrow. Do you mind giving me a hand?”  
“That thing you brought?” the Kid asked, meaningfully.  
Heyes nodded. “Yup.”   
The pair headed out of the room, dodging the whirlwind of girls tumbling into the room. “Girls!” scolded Mayzee. “Mind our guests. We’ve already had one knocked down!”

Christmas morning dawned early. Very early. To be more accurate it started well before dawn. Bleary eyed adults were reluctantly roused by the loudest ‘shsshing’ and giggling they’d heard in many a long year, as feet pattered their excited way down the stairs. It seemed like every creaking floorboard or groaning joist had been specially selected to play its own part in the cacophony. Heyes and Curry’s bloodshot eyes met before they grinned and sat up, pulling on clothes and making their way to the door.   
There were other adults on the landing, tying off the sashes on their robes and shuffling their way fuzzily to the staircase. The smiles quickly became infectious at the cries of delight cutting through the darkness: “He’s been,” and, “No, we can’t open them yet!”   
Henry opened the door, muddling over to light the oil lamp up as the household filed in after him. They stood, lined up to watch the children open their gifts. This was their day, and everything was aimed at making it special for them. The children milled about under the tree looking at labels and shaking parcels under the instructions of Catherine, who as the oldest, had strictly ruled that nothing could be opened until everyone was here. Cage entered the room, carrying little Jake over to the tree, pausing only to look at the enormous square object sitting in the corner of the room, covered by a sheet, noticeable now the room was lit. He placed little Jake on the floor and put a parcel in front of him. “Are we all here?” he asked, kneeling down beside his son.   
Henry’s hazel eyes did a quick inventory. “Yup.” He rubbed his hands gleefully. “Well children? What are we waiting for? It time to open your presents.”  
They didn’t have to be told twice. The whooping tribe fell upon the gifts, Catherine making sure that they were opened by the correct recipient, and that gifts with adult names were appropriately distributed.   
Abigail sat in the melee with Anya, oohing and aahing at the toys and books as they were unwrapped. The oldest girl approached Abigail. “This one has your name on it, Mrs. Stewart.” She handed Abigail a small box covered in paint-marbled paper.   
She looked at the label. “’To Abigail, all my love,’H.’” She looked up at Heyes through her lashes. “You can’t afford it. You shouldn’t have.”  
Heyes gave a self-depreciating shrug. “Best look at it before you say that, it’s not much.”  
She stood, undoing the paper, snapping open the little blue box, her lips twitching into her lopsided smile.   
“I’m sorry it’s so little,” Heyes stared down at his gift. “I wanted to get you something better than that the first time I gave you anything...” he glanced over at Anya, “well, deliberately, that it is.”  
She pulled it out dangling it by the chain. “A cat! Oh, it’s so beautiful. Look at the shape of its back and tail. It’s just so elegant.”  
“Small...” mumbled Heyes.   
“Perfect,” beamed Abigail. “Is it Mouse?”  
He shook his head. “Nope. It has a meaning, but not that,” Heyes dropped his voice. “Do you remember when we met?”  
She eyed him cautiously. “I was unconscious,” a thought struck her. “No, earlier than that - when I fell down the embankment? Is this a joke about how sure-footed I am? Couldn’t you find a goat?”  
His face dimpled into a grin. “No,” he whispered. “When you broke into that orphanage, and I was already there?”  
The memory of his arms snaking around her in the dark flashed in her mind, along with the flutter of excitement she had felt in her belly. He had caught her in the dark, whispering admonishments in her ear with an air of arousal. It was the first time she had connected to him as a man, rather than a criminal, but she’d shaken him off and they’d never spoken of that moment.   
“Yes...”   
“I knew you were special right then, Abi.” He twinkled his old mischief at her. “A cat burglar. The first thing we ever found in common.”  
She started to laugh, her eyes filling with the same devilment. “Ooh, Joshua,” she turned holding up her hair. “Put it on.”   
She turned looking down at it. “It’s perfect! I’ll never take it off.” She looked shamefaced. “Now I wish I’d gotten you something so much better.”  
“But it’s tiny,Abi.”  
She shook her head. “The thought behind this is huge. It’s truly precious,” she held out a parcel. “For you.”  
He pulled the box open with a smile. “A shaving set? Ivory handles, badger bristles, the best.”  
“Yours is so... well... old. I wanted to give you something you’d use every day.”  
He dropped a chaste kiss on her cheek, aware of the other people in the room. “Mine is practically prison issue. This is great, and I’ll think of you every time I use it.” He looked down at it again, memories of last Christmas flooding forward again, realizing how far he’d come. “Every time, Abi.”   
The general exchange of gifts continued, none of them upset that the notice had been too short for them to get gifts for the surprise visitors. Being there was enough for anyone, and clearing up began until everyone started to look at the big shape in the corner, covered by the sheet. Heyes cleared his throat nervously. “I got this for Anya, and I though J.J.’d enjoy it too.” He smiled at the four girls sitting around the tree. “And now there are more here, I guess, you’ll play with it too.” He pulled off the sheet, revealing a huge box, with a red bow on the top, painted with doors and windows to look like the outside of a house. It stood nearly six feet tall, a giant cardboard cube. Heyes pointed to the doors and windows. We can cut those out so you can get inside and look out.” He cleared his throat, the silence of the room making his mouth go dry. This was a disaster. But he had next to no money, and it had seemed such a good idea at the time. “It’ll fold flat to take it home too.”   
Anya clapped her hands in delight. “A house! A giant doll’s house. I love it. Can we get a knife to make the door? Can we? Can we now?”   
Henry nodded. “Of course, I’ll get one from the kitchen, shall I?”  
“Wait!” Heyes patted the box. “You can’t stick a knife in it. Not until you know what’s inside.”  
“There’s something inside?” asked Abigail.  
“There’s a lot inside,” grinned the Kid.  
Heyes held out a hand to Anya. “Come on, open it. I’ll hold you up.” He stretched out trembling hands and lifted his daughter. “Lift the lid.”  
Anya tugged at the cardboard lid, but it was too big for her little hands.   
The Kid stepped forward. “Let me help.” One yank and it was off, and he tipped it over allowing a myriad of colourful balloons to spill out, bouncing and dancing into the air. There was a universal scream from every child in the room as they ran forward with arms open, kicking, bounding and chasing the billowing wave of psychedelic orbs.   
Anya looked up at her mother, her eyes glowing with excitement. “Mama, I’ve never seen so many balloons. This is magic!”  
She ran off to join the fray as the adults watched the children; the youngest girl was pirouetting with one in each hand, the wave of balloons billowing around her ankles, little Jake sat with one between his legs, bouncing another from hand to hand with an air of complete wonderment, and Anya and J.J – true to form – were jousting and parrying with them in some kind of bizarre balloon fight.  
“They completely cover the floor,” laughed Beth, “and this is a big room. There must be hundreds of them!”  
The Kid clasped her to him in a hug. “It sure felt like it when we were blowing them up last night. It took us hours. I thought I was going to pass out!”  
“However did you think of this, Joshua?” asked Belle. “It’s wonderful.”  
Heyes shrugged. “I had no money, and Abi suggested that I think of simple things. I had enough money to get plenty of balloons and the man in the toyshop let me have the box and use his back shop as long as I paid for the paint. I went for simple....” Then he grinned, displaying playful dimples. “...but I thought big.”   
Abigail smiled and slipped an arm though his. “It truly is something these children will remember all their lives. It’s like the circus has come to their own living room.” She fingered the little silver cat at her neck. “You really have such a fine mind, Joshua.”  
“Well,” grinned Mayzee. “This should keep them busy for the next couple of days. Do you think we can calm them down enough to eat breakfast?”  
“We’d best get dressed,” Belle nodded in agreement. “We’ll certainly have peace to cook today.”  
“Och,” Abigail laughed. “It's not even light yet. Let’s cook breakfast as we are, and then get dressed. Why all the formality. It’s Christmas!”

Jesse walked back in from the barn, knocking the snow off his boots before stepping into the relative warmth of the living area of their home. Their home. Hmm. That almost seemed like a joke now and the silent empty rooms laughed back at him, making the house more like simply a shelter from the winter cold than the loving home it had been.  
It was Christmas Day and yes, Jesse was feeling a little down about his current situation. Everyone was gone now. It had been bad enough when it was just his wife and children who'd had to disappear into hiding but at least then he had alternations and different combinations of Han, Jed, Harry and Abigail. Han and Jed at least were family and Jesse had felt comfortable with them keeping him company and Abi was fun to have around. The fact that she had added the essential 'woman's touch' to the farm house had made her all the more welcome here. Harry was a little irritating at times, but acceptable, and the boys, though they chided him often enough seemed to enjoy his company and they all got along pretty well.  
But now, even that company was being denied Jesse. Indeed, once Abi had realized the danger that she had inadvertently sent the Jordan family into it was all the fellas could do to contain her. She was all set to throw caution to the wind and run into town that very moment despite the hour of the evening and the condition of the roads. Han and Jed both had to use all their persuasive powers to get her to see reason and to wait until the following morning. No trains would be heading east until then anyways.  
Jed had agreed to do the treacherous ride into Brookswood that night in order to send an urgent telegram and Abi had set about composing one that was short, precise and informative to let the people know at her end that their cover might be blown! She'd written it out with Heyes' help and then handed it over to Jed with kisses and hugs and near to panic entreaties that he hurry up but be careful, all packaged up in a mother's worry for the safety of her child!   
It had been a difficult night to say the least and the following morning had been one of frantic preparations before the troop finally headed out the door and into town. Since then the house had been still and quiet—and empty. Jesse and the cat. Jesse pulled off his boots and coat and made his way into the warmth of the kitchen to put on yet another pot of coffee in preparation of a mid-day meal. Mouse was right under foot, determined not to be left out.  
That cat had it so good; sleeping anywhere she seemed to please and always finding the warmest spot to curl up in and snooze until someone arrived to give her some attention. Life was good being a house cat and she did her utmost to show her appreciation by purring and rubbing and drooling over any of her known humans who sat down and happened to leave their lap open for occupation. Jesse surprised even himself in how easily he accepted this little feline into their home and their hearts. Cats were supposed to be out in the barn, performing a service, but somehow or other, L' Mouse had elevated herself to house status and there she stayed.  
Jesse smiled and reached down to stroke the soft fur and give the tail a gentle tug as they both stood in the kitchen and contemplated lunch. Ohh, beef stew again. Even Jesse was getting tired of beef stew and all of the handy meals that Belle and then Abigail had prepared before hand had long since been consumed. Jesse sighed. Christmas day and all he had to eat was beef stew and all he had for company was the cat. He'd even given Sam the say off (of course) to spend the holiday with his own family and so things were looking pretty bleak indeed.  
He had just finished putting the coffee on when he heard Ellie barking up a storm outside and his heart froze somewhere between dread of bad news and hope of some company. He sidestepped the disappointed cat and returned to the front door to take a look at what the canine alarm system had deemed important enough to leave her warm bed of hay inside the barn. The two smaller dogs had decided that nothing was important enough for that.  
Jesse pulled on his boots again, opened the door and stepped out onto the porch and then his face broke into a huge smile. A buckboard was pulling into the yard, so filled to the brim with Christmas company that he couldn't even tell who all was on board. As soon as the visitors had spotted the man of the house a huge chorus went up and even the horses tossed their heads and pranced a little on the snowy track.

“Papa! Merry Christmas!”

“Hey Jesse! Happy holidays!”

“Afternoon Mr. Jordan!”

Jesse reached back inside to grab his coat and then came down the steps to ground level and walked over to meet the group half way.

“Oh my goodness!” He greeted the assembly as he reached up and took hold of the off horse's bridle.” What are you all doing here? You must be freezing!”

“We've had this planned for a while now Mr. Jordan.” Sam informed him as he set the brake. “Just in case no one was back in time for the holidays.”

Everyone piled out of the back of the buckboard, bringing their blankets and pillows along with them and gathering around the patriarch of the Jordan family. Even Ellie was getting in to the thick of it and was running around barking with delight, her tail whipping back and forth and whacking into anybody who happened to get in the way.

“Hello Papa.” Bridget came up to her father and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You couldn't possibly think that we would leave you alone on Christmas Day!”

“Well, I....”

“Jesse, Merry Christmas.”

“Steven, good to see you. My, but Rosie is growing like a weed.”

The infant was all bundled up in her winter snuggies but she was old enough now to take in her surroundings and was spending all of her time surveying her new environment. Saying 'hello' to her grandpa was not high on her list of things to do. But still, Steven passed his daughter over to him and she settled in his arms and stared up at him as though he were the strangest thing she had ever seen.

“Hello sweetheart.” Jesse greeted his granddaughter. “You're living up to your name today—just look at those rosie cheeks!”

“Hello Jesse, Merry Christmas.” Came another greeting.

“David!” Jesse shook hands with the doctor. “And Trisha, of course!” A kiss on the cheek. “And Miranda, c'mon you too! All the ladies get a kiss. Maribelle—you too! Clementine! Haven't seen you in a while!”

“Oh well, you know me! So much to do all the time!

“Well, come here, let me give you a kiss too.”

“Oh, Mr. Jordan!” Clem teased. “If you weren't a married man....!”

“Mmm hmmm.” Everyone was used to Clem by this time. “And young Miss Carol. C'mon, your turn for a kiss.”

Carol blushed sweetly but came for her kiss and hug as well.

“And Merle! How are you this Christmas Day?” Jesse asked Sam's mother as he gave her a kiss on the cheek too.

“Oh can't complain!” She told him. “I'm just glad we didn't get hit with a huge snow storm like we have on other years!”

“Yes, the weather is certainly cooperating this year.” Jesse agreed and then smiled as Todd and Nathan got in line to get their handshakes.

“My my, what a gathering!” Jesse was stunned at all this attention. “Well, c'mon, let's get you all into the house. You must be freezing! I've only got stew for dinner though, I'm afraid.”

“Oh no you don't!” Bridget corrected him. “We all brought food with us to make up a grand feast! Trisha and Miranda even roasted a turkey so all we have to do now is heat it up and cook the vegetables and the sweet potatoes. Maribelle brought a wonderful dessert and I believe Steven and Sam both brought some wine! We're not going to go hungry tonight!”

Everyone grabbed baskets full of goodies and gifts and headed towards the house while Sam led the team over towards the barn. He would unharness them and put them out in the field with the others for the rest of the day and then they could all come in to a nice cozy barn for their own dinner. Everyone would be staying put tonight so even the bunk house might be in for a good fire and clearing out!  
Once Sam got into the house himself, the cat and the women had all disappeared into the kitchen and there could be heard the joyous sounds of chatting and laughter as they set about getting the evening meal prepared. Jesse was pouring out four glasses of brandy over at the dinning room table so Sam pulled off his winter gear and joined the other gentlemen for some Christmas cheer.

When everyone had a glass, Jesse raised his in a toast. “To family and friends.” He said. “I was all prepared to spend a rather lonely Christmas here this year, so this was indeed a pleasant surprise.”

“To family and friends.” Was echoed around the table and everyone tapped glasses and then sat down to gossip.

Jesse took Rosie off of her father's hands and settled in at the head of the table to chat with company and to enjoy his granddaughter as well. He did not get the chance to see her very often and now especially with the new threat that had been hovering over them, he was seeing his daughter and her family even less. He briefly thought of the the risk they were taking being here now, but decided that the action had apparently moved east and that the Double J, for now at least, would be a safe enough haven for them all to enjoy some time together.  
Presents had been brought from the various households in order to make this a very special Christmas for Jesse and they all gathered together in the sitting room to share in the traditional gift opening. Though the children had all had most of their gifts earlier in the day the opportunity to open a few more was quickly seized upon and excitement reigned supreme in the Jordan household. Even Mouse got into the act, attacking ribbon and batting the bows across the sitting room floor.  
As the excitement of more presents began to wind down, Bridget approached her father with a smile on her face and a small flat parcel in her hands.

“This is for you, Papa.” She told him as she extended the gift to his lap. “From me and Steven.”

Jesse smiled and accepted it. “Thank you Sweetheart.” He told her. “But just having you all here has been enough of a present for me.”

“Oh, I know!” Bridget chided him as she sat on the floor, cuddling up to his knees, just as she used to do as a small child. “But this is special—from both of us.”

Jesse nodded and then unwrapped the colourful paper. He gazed upon a beautifully framed photograph of the young Granger family. He smiled, truly feeling honoured to be given such a lovely keepsake and knowing that Belle would appreciate it as well. He stroked his daughter's soft blonde hair and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

“Thank you Sweetheart.” He murmured. “It's lovely. Thank you Steven.”

“You're welcome Papa.”

“You're welcome Jesse.” Steven responded. “We'll try and keep them coming regularly. Photo's that is! Not necessarily grandchildren. Well—maybe grandchildren too, but well—you know what I mean!”

Everyone got a chuckle out of that and David gave Steven a slap on the back. “Well said, young man! Well said!”

“Yeah, yeah....”

Dinner was an unqualified success, but compared to yet another meal of beef stew it would have been pretty hard to destroy turkey with all the fixxin's! Jesse was feeling about as content as a man could with his wife and two youngest children absent from the meal, but he was appreciating what he had right here in front of him and he made do.  
He found himself watching Randa throughout supper just to see how she was holding up. Of course he was well aware of her recent disappointment and Christmas especially can be hard when one is already feeling blue. But he was pleased to observe that she was rising to the occasion and was happy and animated throughout the meal. A small hint of regret would wash over her features when she thought no one was paying attention, but she would quickly cover it over with laughter and she succeeded in having a lovely evening.  
The house took on a life of its own that Christmas Day. Everyone was in good spirits, with the conversation lively and the children boisterous! And Jesse was loving every minute of it. For all the times that he wished for some peace and quiet when the whole family was at home and the two girls were yelling up and down the staircase at each other and the baby had been screaming and Jesse and Belle had been at their wits end trying to restore peace in the valley! He now was finding that the peace and quiet he had on occasion craved was not all it was cracked up to be. Yes, the household was alive again and the only way Jesse could have been happier would have been for the rest of his family to be present as well.  
Later that evening, as things were quieting down and Steven was cuddling his daughter to sleep in his arms, Jesse went to his eldest offspring and wrapped his arms around her. He gave her a kiss on her forehead.

“Thank you.” He said to her.

“We all had a hand it it.” She told him as she snuggled into his embrace.

“I know.” He conceded. “But I also know who was behind it in the first place.”

She smiled. “Yes, well I just couldn't see you out here all alone on Christmas Day. It didn't take very much to get everyone on board either.”

“I've missed you Bridget.” Her father informed her. “I know it's the natural course of things for the children to grow up and move on, but it's still hard on the parents!”

“Oh c'mon!” She teased him with a gentle slap on his chest. “I can understand a mother feeling that way, but you too?”

“Fathers too.” Jesse admitted with a smile. “And now of course, once this current saga is settled, well then Beth will be getting married and moving on. This house is going to get awfully quiet, even with J.J. running around!”

Bridget became serious then. “Any word from them?” She asked. “I've been so worried myself. Who in the world would want to harm any of us?”

Jesse shrugged. “I don't know Sweetheart.” He admitted. “And you know they can't contact us. That might give their location away and I don't know where they are anyways. Still, if anyone can get to the bottom of this Mrs. Stewart and our boys will be able to do it.”

“Yes!” Bridget wholeheartedly agreed. “They do make quite the team don't they? Still, I had hoped they'd be home for Christmas.” But then she brightened up even more. “Better days are coming, Papa! Let's hope that Easter has the family all back together again!”

Just then Steven interrupted them holding a sleeping Rosa in his arms.

“Do you have the bassinet ready for her?” He asked his wife. “I do believe she is down for the night.”

“Oh, yes. I put it in my old bedroom.” Then she sent an enquiring glance to her father. “I'd assumed that's where we would be spending the night?”

Jesse shrugged. “Why not?” He agreed. “I will leave that sorting out up to you folks.”

Bridget smiled and then the two young parents traded off. “Let me take her.” Bridget offered. “I'll put her to bed.”

Soon all the children had been put to bed in various bedrooms about the house and after the exhausting day they'd all had it wasn't long before the lot of them were sound asleep. The adults took that opportunity to settle in around the dinning table with various drinks and some second helpings of dessert—for those who could handle it.

“So there's been no word?” Steven asked.

“Not since they arrived in Topeka.” Jesse informed him. “Sheriff Jacobs got the telegram from the Pinkerton man that Han did indeed make contact. But that was some time ago now and I haven't heard anything more since.”

“No news is good news.” David put in. “It's an oldie, but it's true. If anything bad had happened you would have heard about it.”

“Oh I know.” Jesse agreed. “Still, it's a husband's and a father's prerogative to worry. I'm just holding up my end.”

The three other men at the table all nodded and smiled knowingly.

“Yup.”

“That's for sure.”

“You got that right.”

Abigail tied off the blue ribbon on Rebecca’s hair and gave her a little pat on the bottom. “Mach a seo! Go and play, you look lovely now, my love. Let Mama get ready too.”  
Rebecca gave a whoop and scampered out of the room.  
Belle sat brushing her hair on the bed next to the washstand. “I think she goes everywhere at a gallop,” she smiled.  
Abigail walked over to the washstand and poured water into the bowl, removing her dressing gown. “Yes, she’s a force of nature. I suspect her father was similar at that age.”  
“And I think you were too,” Belle added.  
Abigail nodded. “Yes, my mother used to despair. I was always climbing trees, and playing boys’ games.” She laid her robe on the chair beside the washstand.  
“Oh!” Beth stood stock-still, silenced by shock.  
Abigail looked around, mystified. “What? What’s wrong?”  
Beth pointed. “Your chest.”  
Abigail looked down at the mass of yellowing, blackish-green bruising creeping over the top of her camisole. “Ah! It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” She turned back to the washstand, but Belle was on her feet, turning Abigail to examine the injury.  
“How on EARTH did this happen?”  
“I was hit on the chest.” Abigail pulled back. “I’m fine, honestly.”  
Belle was not so easily deterred. “Hit? What with, a house!?”  
Abigail reached for her robe again. “Please, I hate fuss, I’m fine.”  
“Abi, that’s a terrible injury. Is your rib broken?”  
“No, Belle. The doctor says I’ve bruised the cartilage between the ribs. He said I was fine to travel.”   
“What could do that sort of damage? A sledge hammer?”  
Abigail shrugged self-consciously. “A sledgehammer? Goodness me, no!”  
“Why won’t you tell us?” Beth demanded.  
“It sounds worse than it was, I don’t want to frighten you.”  
Belle shook her head. “Our imagination is probably worse than anything you can tell us. What happened, Abi?”   
Abigail gave a big sigh. “I was shot...” she raised her hands in appeasement. “I was wearing a bullet-proof vest, so it’s not as dramatic as it sounds.”  
“Oh, my!” Belle hugged her daughter to her. “What if they’d aiming for your head? You shouldn’t be doing this, Abi.”   
Abigail turned back to the washstand unwilling to admit that she’d played the scene out in her mind a million times, the gun aimed in SO many places, until she had shut that part of her mind down, refusing to dwell on the matter anymore. She tried to make light of it. “Och, I’ve already been shot in the head, Belle. That’s the hardest part of me. You couldn’t mark it with an axe, ask Mr. Heyes.”  
Belle’s voice softened. “You have a daughter, Abigail.”  
“I know, Belle, and that’s why I was shot. He came looking for Anya when he couldn’t find Beth, but we were expecting him. I drew him there; which is why I was wearing protective clothing. We can’t give up now, Belle, not when we’re nearly finished.”   
“Was it the man who came for me?” Beth’s voice wavered with vulnerability.  
Abigail’s dark eyes dropped. “No, he’s in jail, and the other is dead, Beth. We just have one more to find, and then you’ll be safe.” She picked up the soap and began to work it into her washcloth. “It’s Christmas, let’s not talk about such things. It’s been such a lovely day so far. Wasn’t he clever with his balloons? Jed and I wanted to give him money to get whatever he wanted, but he felt the need to get her something with his own money; money he’d earned.”   
Beth bit into her lip. “I’m sorry.”  
“Don’t be daft - you’ve nothing to be sorry for.”  
“I have,” Beth walked over and sat on her mother’s bed. “I thought badly of you, but here you are; risking your life for me.”  
Abigail turned, smiling gently at the girl. “You thought I’d hurt Mr. Heyes, and you were right. I did.” She arched her eyebrows, “There are normally at least two sides of every story, but there are three to this one. You couldn’t love him more than me, but my daughter’s safety had to come first; before my happiness, or his. This whole investigation is a good illustration of why I told him to go. When you’re a mother you’ll understand, Beth. When you truly love, getting what you want means a whole lot less than giving what you have.” She returned to her ablutions. “Now, let me get on, please. There’s a whole lot of cooking to be done. It’s Christmas day.”   
Belle stood, embracing Abigail gently around the shoulders. “You are only going to be allowed to do the sitting down jobs. You need to rest after an injury like that, isn’t that right, Beth.”   
Beth smiled. “Yes, mama. It’ll be our side of the deal. It’s only fair.”

Jed stood leaning against the door jam with a slightly whimsical smile on his face. He was watching his cousin and was so intent on his observations that he had allowed his own mask to drop and the love that he felt for the other man shone through for all to see. That is if anyone had by chance been looking at him.   
Fortunately at that time all the children were busy playing with their new toys—the balloons and the cardboard play house being a universal favourite! How did Heyes do that anyways? He always seemed to know what was going to please, even for a group of children. Of course he had shown that tendency at the orphanage, so..... Anyway, the children were busy playing, Cage was taking some quiet time himself to work on something—his next book maybe. And the ladies were gathered in the kitchen and visiting while preparations for the evening meal were getting under way.  
Heyes was sitting on the sofa, totally and completely lost in his own world. He was drinking in his daughter; every move, every sound, every nuance flowed into his mind and was lodged in there for safe keeping. His expression was one of joyous wonder, his dark eyes flicking here and there, following her every energetic move as she naturally but subtly held control over the rambunctious group.  
Jed smiled. No point in trying to pull Heyes into any kind of a conversation now; he was just too immersed in a new reality that he just couldn't quite believe. Jed pushed himself off the door jam and made his way into the kitchen and instantly, Beth's eyes were upon him. He smiled at her; she was so beautiful, her brown eyes sparkling with delight and her cheeks flushed with the laughter that was being shared with this new group of friends.  
Jed came over to her and slipping his arm around her waist he gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek and then whispered in her ear.

“Let's go for a walk.”

She smiled up at him and nodded. Then she touched her mother's arm to get her attention.

“Momma, Jed and I are just going to go for a walk, alright?”

“Oh.” Belle looked concerned but could certainly understand the young people wanting some time alone together. “Abi, do you think it's safe for them to go for a walk?”

“Yes, I think so.” Abi smiled. “Nobody knows we're here. Just don't stray too far and don't get lost!”

“We'll be fine.” Jed assured them. “I'll look after her Belle, don't worry. And we won't go far—it's too cold to stay out for long anyways. I just need some fresh air.”

All the ladies smiled, knowing that fresh air was probably the last thing on his mind.

It was cold outside, but the couple had bundled themselves up warmly and for the time being, didn't seem to mind the chill in the air. They walked along the quiet street, arm in arm and enjoying the feeling of their closeness and the crispness in the air and the snow underfoot. There was absolutely nobody else on the street and it felt good to get away from the hustle and bustle of the crowded household.

“It's good to see you again Beth.” Jed quietly commented, his breath showing in the cold air. “I missed you—I was worried about you.”

“Ohh, yes.” Beth agreed wholeheartedly. “I've never felt this way before; it felt as though half of my soul was missing because you weren't with me. I'm so glad you showed up for Christmas Day!”

Jed laughed. “Yup! Couldn't have asked for better presents either; spending the day with you and watching Heyes finally meeting his daughter! Couldn't ask for more.”

Beth laughed then. “Wasn't it wonderful!?” She agreed. “He looked like a little boy himself, gazing at her as though she were the most precious thing—and I suppose to him, she is. I knew who she was as soon as I met her, but seeing them together, it's amazing the similarities!” Then her smile dropped and a gentle sadness came into her expression. “It's just such a shame that he can't tell her who he is. I still don't really understand why not. If he and Abi are back together, wouldn't that be such a wonderful Christmas present for her; to know that he is her father?”

“I know.” Jed agreed. “But I can understand why Abi wants to wait. Things are looking good now, but...” Jed shrugged. “....all in good time I suppose. We'll see.”

“I do miss Papa.” Beth admitted. “I was hoping all this would be cleared up by now and we would be home again for Christmas. I'm so worried that Papa will be spending this day all by himself.”

Jed laughed and patted her gloved hand. “I don't think you need to worry about that.” He assured her. “I have a feeling that Bridget isn't going to allow that to happen!”

Beth smiled. “You're probably right! He's probably got a whole house full of guests! I suppose I just wish I was there with him as well.” Then she became a little melancholy and squeezed Jed's arm. “I believe this is the first Christmas I have spent away from home. It seems—strange, that's all.”

“I know darlin'.” Jed assured her. “I suppose it's all a part of growing up and moving on. But still, there really is nothing like home and family at Christmas time. I remember....”

“What?” Beth asked when Jed hesitated.

He smiled at her. “When Heyes and I were at your place, just before...you know....” Beth nodded. “We were talking about how nice it would be to spend Christmas with a family again. And then, all that...stuff happened.”

“Yes.” Beth whispered, her hand squeezing his even tighter. “You had a very hard time that Christmas didn't you.”

Jed gave a slightly sardonic laugh. “That's a kind way of putting it! But yeah...I felt so guilty. There I was, getting ready to spend Christmas with my family, surrounded by my friends—all my friends but one. Heyes was stuck in that prison for what was likely to be the rest of his life. I just couldn't deal with that.” Then he stopped walking and turned Beth to him. “I'm sorry Beth. I know I hurt you back then. I didn't mean to, I just didn't know how to deal with all that....”

Beth smiled and caressed his cheek. “I know. It was difficult for all of us.” She smiled. “But look at Hannibal now! Did you see the way he looked at her; like he just couldn't believe it!”

Jed grinned. “Yeah! I think this Christmas is going to make up for all those other ones!” He sighed. “I sure hope he and Abi can pull it together this time. That would really make it complete.”

“We could have a double wedding!” Beth exclaimed as they turned and started to make their way back to the townhouse. “With J.J. and Anya as the ring bearer and flower girl!” 

“Ho ho!” Jed laughed. “You already have this all planned out don't you?”

“Of course!” Beth admitted with a smile. “It would be most fitting; the two of you getting married on the same day! Unfortunately Hannibal already has a jump on starting a family though.”

“Oh ho! Don't you worry about that Beth, darlin'!” Jed told her as he stopped her in her tracks again and brought her into a hug. “I can be a real quick study when it comes to that side of the family business.”

“I already know that....”

Then he leaned down and kissed her on the lips, gently at first and then stronger and more passionately as the fire was lit. Beth returned the kiss with pleasure, opening her mouth and taking him in as a reminder of what would come later. Jed felt everything exploding and he told himself that he had to back off! They were in the middle of the street, for goodness sake—and it was Christmas Day!  
It took a lot for him to hold back; the memory of her beautiful body laying naked in the long grass, filling up his senses, taking hold of his reserve. He kissed her again and then did the impossible; he pulled back, taking in deep breaths of air and holding her to him in a passionate hug.

“Aww Beth, I love you so much.” He whispered in her ear, then he groaned and pulled away from her completely. “C'mon. We best be getting back.”

Beth smiled, and taking his arm, she cuddled up against him as they continued on their way. 

 

Cage pulled the huge red bow off his son’s head for the umpteenth time that day. “Jake, I told you. Only girls wear those.”  
Mayzee gave a tinkling laugh, arranging the cutlery on the long table. “Leave him alone, he likes it.”  
“It’s a bow! It’s off that damn box-house thing. Boys don’t wear them.”  
“Language! And you did,” grinned Mayzee. “It never did you any harm.”  
“I never! Not in all my born days,” Cage blustered.  
“Grace and I used to have a lot of fun with you when you were tiny. We used to dress you up and do your hair... Your hair gets curly when it’s long, just like Jake's, and all those ringlets used to look so sweet covered in pink ribbons,” she looked wistfully up at her enormous, younger brother. “Nobody’d even know you were a boy.”  
“Ma wouldn’t let you!”  
“She did. She helped. You were beautiful.”  
“Well, you ain’t doin’ that to my boy,” growled Cage.   
“Save that glare for your criminals, Cage. It doesn’t work on me. Jake thinks it’s a Christmas hat, he’s too little to care about it being a bow.”  
“You want a hat, son?” he strode out into the hallway and lifted his own hat down from the peg. “Here, try pa’s hat.”   
“Big hat,” Jake announced, scuttling off, kicking balloons and struggling to see beneath the blinding brim.  
“Can you ask the children where they’ve put their table centre?” Mayzee stepped back to assess the Christmas table. “It’s almost time to eat, and we need to get that on there. Can you light the candles too?”   
There was a loud rap at the door, causing Mayzee and her brother to lock eyes. “Are you expectin’ anyone?” Cage asked.  
“Nobody. I wonder who that could be at this time on a Christmas evening?” Mayzee started towards it, but Cage blocked her way. “Where’s Curry?”  
Cage’s serious face was making his sister worry. “In the kitchen, why?”   
“Get him,” Cage walked into the hallway, drawing his gun from his holster, “and keep the kids away from the door.”  
The door was knocked again.  
“Seriously?”  
“Yeah, Mayzee, get him.”  
The Kid appeared in the hallway, as the door was thumped again, this time with more impatience. “Back me up, will ya, Curry.”  
The Kid nodded, drawing his gun, and staring at the door with serious blue eyes, taking up a position.   
“Who is it?” Cage demanded, standing off to the side.  
“It’s Harry; will you open this damn door!? I’m freezing my ass off out here.”  
“Harry?” The Kid stared at Cage in surprise. “Were you expectin’ him?”  
Cage shook his head. “Nope, were you?”  
“No.”  
“For cryin’ out loud! It’s below freezing out here, and I’ve had to walk four miles from the station. Open the fucking door.”  
The men holstered their guns and grinned, Cage opening the door to let a shivering, pinch-faced Harry shuffle into the warmth. “What are you doin’ here?” Cage demanded.   
Harry walked stiffly into the hall, ice crusted onto his coat. “You asked for information, I got it.”  
“I never asked you to bring it here,” Cage shook his head in bemusement. “It’s Christmas. I’m with my family.”   
“A Bannerman man never rests,” Harry replied through chattering teeth.  
“Smells like he doesn’t wash much either,” chuckled the Kid. “How did you get here? By skunk?”  
“Livestock wagon,” Harry scowled, “it was all that was coming through here. They made a special stop for me.”  
The Kid nodded, opening the door to the sitting room. “Yeah, I’ve often felt it was worth goin’ to extra trouble to get rid of ya too, Harry.” He called into the room. “Relax, Mayzee. It’s a friend.”  
“A friend,” she opened the door, her face falling in shock at the bedraggled, beggarly figure trembling in her hallway. “Oh, my!”  
“Mayzee, this is Harry Briscoe. He’s a Bannerman detective.”  
“A detective,” she asked, incredulously. “Really?”  
“Ma’am, I don’t always dress like this. I’ve been working.”  
“Oh,” she glanced at her brother, “are you just passing?”  
Harry’s shoulders slumped even further. “Ma’am, I thought your brother needed me to bring this information urgently. I even travelled with cattle to get this here to him as fast as I could.”  
Mayzee gave a crisp nod. “Well then, you must stay. I can’t turn you out after going to all that trouble. We haven’t had Christmas dinner yet. I’ll set another place. It’ll keep until you’ve washed and changed.”  
“Food?” Harry’s face brightened. “If it’s ready, I could eat right now.”  
Mayzee drew herself up to her full height, suddenly becoming the headmistress she was in her professional life. “Your stomach may stand that smell over a meal, Mr. Brisco, but mine will not. You will accompany Cage upstairs and he will show you where the men are sleeping. You will wash – PROPERLY - and change your clothes before you will sit at my table. Mr. Curry will bring you up some hot water.” She turned to Cage. “J.J. is sleeping in that dormitory. Can he be trusted with a little boy, or should he move in with the women?”  
“He’ll be fine, Mayzee.” Cage grinned. “I’ll watch him.”  
“Fine, I shall see you when you’re ready, Mr. Briscoe.” She turned at the sitting room door. “Don’t be long, we have hungry children in here.”   
Harry turned puce. “Does she know who Heyes and Curry are?” he whispered  
Cage nodded, a smile playing over his lips. “Yup.”  
“And she trusts them over me! This is an outrage! I’m an officer of the law.”  
The Kid folded his arms. “Harry, the only difference between you and me is that you were lucky enough to have someone around to stop you goin’ through with your first job, and talk enough sense into you to keep you straight. I’d say she’s a real smart lady.” He opened the door, catching Cage suddenly looking at Harry with fresh eyes. “I’ll go get that water.”  
Harry’s hair was still wet when he appeared downstairs in crisp clothes and a fresh attitude. He had clearly decided to go on a charm offensive. He rubbed his hands together chucking the girls under the chin, complementing them on their dresses and bows. “Ah! You must be J.J.? I met your pa.”  
“You did, mister?”  
Harry nodded. “Sure did, a real fine man. I can see you take after him.” He moved along fixing on the child across the table. “And who’s this fine, little lady. Don’t you just look so pretty with your blonde curls? What’s your name?”  
“Jake,” muttered Cage, snatching the bow from his son’s head yet again.  
“I have set a place for you here,” Mayzee pulled out a chair beside Heyes. “I thought you could sit between Mrs. Jordan and our other guest. I’m sure she would be pleased to hear news of her husband on this special day.”  
“Thank you, ma’am. Most kind.” He sat, grinning at Heyes, his pointed nose bobbing hungrily over the dishes of vegetables and potatoes cooked three different ways. “Heyes, good to see you. I heard what happened...”  
Heyes kicked him under the table. “Do NOT call me that here,” he hissed. “In fact try not to use any name.”  
“But why?”  
“Just do it, Harry,” one look into his unfaltering eyes told Harry Heyes’ urgent whisper meant business. “Not everyone here knows who I am. Just do it.” Heyes smiled charmingly at the little dark-haired girl opposite him. “Have you had a good day, Anya?”  
Her dark eyes glowed with the buzz of still unspent energy. “Oh, Uncle Han, it’s just been the best day ever, with mama, and you, the balloons and so many children to play with... it’s been marvellous!”  
The Kid glanced over at Heyes, basking in the warmth in his smile, and the gleam in his eyes. There was a new light there; one he’d never seen before in a man who was always in a hurry for the next challenge. There was the stillness of the afterglow of attainment.  
“Anya, that’s a pretty name,” Harry ventured.  
The child’s chin set in determination. “Thank you, But you have to call me Becky.”  
Harry frowned. “Why?”  
“Because that’s my name.”  
“But he just called you Anya.”  
“Yes, but my name’s Becky. You can’t call me Anya.”  
Abigail approached the table, pulling out a seat beside the child. “It’s a pet name, Harry. You don’t know her well enough to use it, that’s all.”  
Heyes, nudged Harry urging him to stand as the women approached the table, followed by Henry and the Kid bearing a turkey each, which they placed at either end of the long table. “Manners, Harry. Stand for the ladies. They have done all the cooking, after all.”  
“Harry? Am I using that name? Nobody else seems to be who they’re supposed to be; not even the kids,” he muttered, pushing back his chair.  
Henry raised his glass. “Merry Christmas, everyone! Please drink to welcome the season before we say grace. The all drank deeply of their wine or cordial, dropping their heads while Henry led them through a festive prayer. “Amen,” Henry smiled, picking up the carving knife. “Right who wants a leg? We’ve got four of them this year. The journey begins, through Turkey, into Greece until I hit China!”  
Mayzee rolled her eyes. “He’s made that joke every Christmas for the last fifteen years.”  
Henry chuckled. “And I hope to make it for the next fifty Christmases, my love. Maybe next year you’ll all say it with me? Cheesy family jokes are a great tradition.”  
“I won’t be here next year,” Catherine murmured quietly.  
The Stamfords exchanged a conversation in a glance before Mayzee clutched her hand. “You’ve been with me since you were seven, Catherine. You will only leave here if, and when, you want to. You’re family.”

So the conversation flowed. Everyone enjoyed themselves immensely but especially Han, Jed and Harry who were still floating ten feet above the table, none of them quite believing that they were actually sitting down to a family Christmas dinner. Heyes couldn't take his eyes off his daughter, Jed couldn't take his eyes of his love and Harry couldn't take his eyes off the food.  
But as the tummy's got filled and the thirst's got slaked and everyone settled down to nibble on seconds or thirds and conversation took over from eating, even Harry couldn't help but notice the extra attention that 'Uncle Han' was lavishing upon the pretty little dark haired girl. He started to pay more attention.  
As he took more note of the child he could certainly see the familial resemblance there and yet he knew darn well that Heyes and Abi were anything but siblings. He'd be a monkey's uncle if Heyes' relationship to this child was anything less than paternal!  
Hmm, Heyes a father. Now that's a scenario Harry had never considered before. Obviously the child didn't realize the relationship and just as obviously, the parents wanted it to stay that way. Why? That was anyone's guess. He turned his focus onto his friend and noted the animation in his attitude, the sparkle in his eyes and the never ending smile that held his dimples in place like a captivated audience at the symphony.   
Then Heyes turned and Harry found those intense dark eyes meeting his and Harry cocked an eyebrow and sent a quick look to Becky and then back to his friend. Heyes' smile widened as he realized that even Harry had put two and two together. Some secrets just couldn't be kept in the dark forever, especially when the two main players were presented to the gathering side by side for all to see the obvious!  
Then Heyes was back into his conversation with Abi and Anya so Harry turned his attention to his other friend at the table. Jed was just as enthralled with his dinner companion as Heyes was with his. Beth could hardly eat her supper due to the distractions of her lover sitting right next to her. They giggled and joked and whispered private little nuances to one another while at the same time trying to stay connected to the conversation going around the table.   
Jed's happiness in this current time and place could not have been more apparent and Harry felt a slight twinge of jealousy at the change of circumstances. Of the three of them he had always considered himself to be the stable one; the one who had a career and a life full to the brim with obligation and duty! Who had time for a family?  
Heyes and the Kid were outlaws—drifters. Even if they received their amnesty (which Harry had tended to doubt) they would still just be drifters, with no real goals in life. Harry's imagination just couldn't make that jump to even consider the possibility that either one of them would find a nitch in their new lives and actually make something of themselves.   
Now here they all sat and Harry felt like the odd man out. Both his friends had not only found their way out from under the weight of their past mistakes but had actually found soul mates; life partners (other than each other) to share their futures with. Good heavens! Heyes even had himself a ten year old daughter on the side lines that no one had even known about! Well, some had known about her, but it certainly hadn't been common knowledge. Harry certainly hadn't known!  
Yes, Harry suddenly felt like maybe there was something vital missing in his own life. Maybe he should start to pay a little bit more attention to the fairer sex. Maybe it was time he settled down....

Belle was in her element! Other than the fact that she missed her husband terribly she was enjoying herself immensely. J.J. and Anya had hit it off and become fast friends in the way that only children seem to be able to. Beth was in love with the man of her dreams, and better yet; the man of her dreams was finally and about time in love with her too. Things like that bring joy to a mother's heart and seeing her daughter laughing and flirting with her man made Belle smile and remember her own courtship with Jesse and the pleasures it had brought to both of them.   
And of course, there was Joshua! How wonderful to see him so happy! After all the pain and sorrow and hopelessness in the life he had endured and now he could be sitting here, brimming over with life's joys! It just made this Christmas very special. She loved Joshua very much, and Thaddeus too—she knew that. Two such different and sometimes, frustrating personalities who had shown up out of the blue, covered in sweat and dust and amiable solicitations, asking for a ride. And here they were, so much now a part of their family, a part of their lives that nothing; not time, or distance or space could ever change that.   
Finally the dinner slowly wound itself down and everyone started making stretching and groaning moves as a prelude to rising from the table and retiring to the study or the family room. The ladies all rose up and began to clear the table of the dessert detritus and the men did their little bit by collecting up their own dishes and handing them over to the women to take out to the kitchen and deal with in there.  
Feeling that they had done their bit, the men headed towards the study to smoke a cigar or two and indulge in some after dinner brandy. It was at this point, as the group dispersed that Heyes and the Kid found themselves face to face and they both smiled. This was it. Though it hadn't exactly been the Christmas they had imagined, it was their first Christmas with family in almost thirty years.  
They looked at each other for a moment and as usual; a whole conversation passed between them. Jed laughed and Heyes' grin grew to beyond what his face could comfortably hold.  
“Aww Heyes!” Jed greeted him. “Merry Christmas.”  
And the two friends came in to a 'man hug' and slapped each other on the back.  
“Yeah, you too Kid.” Heyes returned. “Merry Christmas.”  
Then they both noticed Harry looking a little out of place. They converged upon him with smiles and back slapping and holiday solicitations.  
“Hey Harry!” Kid greeted him. “Merry Christmas!”  
“OH! Yeah, you too Kid.” Harry returned the greeting, though a little hesitant, not quite sure how to behave in these family situations. “Ah, Merry Christmas.”  
“Harry.” Heyes gave him a pat on the back. “Glad you got to join us. A little unexpected, but nice to have you here.”  
Harry smiled, honestly touched by Heyes' comment. “Oh yeah.” He mumbled. “Well, nice to be here Heyes. But I do have some information....”  
“Yeah, yeah I know.” Heyes interrupted him. “But let's just leave that until the children have gone to bed alright? In the mean time; it's Christmas and I don't want to talk business on Christmas.”  
“Oh.” Harry sounded a little put out, thinking that his news was actually important. “Well, alright if that's what you want. It is something you need to....”  
“Hold it Harry.” Heyes interrupted him again. “It can wait until later.”  
“Well, okay.”

The men all retired to drink brandy and smoke some nice cigars and indulge in idle conversation while the women were busy cleaning up the dishes. In the next room the children could be heard happily playing with their new toys—again! But now there were sounds of squabbling coming into it which tended to indicate that the younger crowd were actually getting tired and might be ready for bed.  
Once the dishes were squared away and the ladies could finally settle in with their own respite; namely a cup of soothing hot tea, the children were starting to wind down. Some were even starting to pay some attention to the story books that had been given to them from hopeful parents and guardians and weren't too interested in playing in the cardboard box anymore.  
It was during this time that Abi made a quiet appearance in the study, holding a tea cup and presenting a smile. She looked over at her beloved.  
“It'll be time for the children to head for bed soon.” She announced. “And Anya has requested that her 'Uncle Han' come and read the bedtime story for tonight.”  
All eyes turned to Heyes and he sat, momentarily stunned and not quite knowing what to do.  
“Go on 'Han'.” Jed prodded him with a smile. “Time to take on the responsibilities.”  
“Oh! Ahh....” Big smile. “Yeah.”  
Heyes put his drink down and stood up and then, feeling like he was walking in the clouds he followed Abi into the next room.

Heyes looked down at his daughter, her dark pigtails standing out against the snow-white pillows. “So, what do you want me to read?”  
Rebecca picked up the book from her nightstand. “This one. Mama got me it for Christmas.”  
Heyes took the blue book covered in stamped in black and gilt writing. “The Adventures of Tom Sawyer,” he paused. “Aren’t you a bit young for this? Don’t you want a fairy story?”  
“She’s very bright for her age,” Abigail walked over tucked her daughter in, dropping a kiss on her forehead, “aren’t you, a gràidh? She’s been wanting this book for ages.” She trailed an unseen sensual finger down Heyes’ back, charging his nervous system with hunger. She glanced over at the other girls in the small dormitory. “You don’t mind, Uncle Han reading a story do you?” The chorus of approval sealed Heyes’ fate as resident storyteller. “It looks like you’re busy for the next little bit.” She turned at the door. “Just one chapter, now! I want to see you all asleep when the grown-ups come to bed.”   
“...and when she saw the state his clothes were in her resolution to turn his Saturday holiday into captivity at hard labor became adamantine in its firmness.” Heyes’ smile dimpled below warm, twinkling eyes as he snapped the book shut. “One chapter, that’s it for tonight.”  
“Aww! Can’t we have more? Please, Uncle Han?”  
Abigail walked in, the glint in her eye quashing objections. “One chapter, I said. Now, settle down and get to sleep.”   
She tucked in each girl in turn, dropping a kiss on their cheeks. “Snuggle up, and have lovely dreams of today and tomorrow.”  
“But mama, Uncle Han does all the voices!” Rebecca flicked pleading eyes at her newly found relative. “Mama can’t do accents. She's Scottish.”  
Heyes cast amused eyes at Abigail. “Can’t she? Well, I’ll have to give her some lessons.”  
“Goodnight, girls. Merry Christmas.” Abigail extinguished the lamp with a single puff, throwing the room into darkness. Heyes felt her hand slip into his, pulling him to his feet and leading him from the room.  
He tugged on her hand at the top of the stairs. “Wait,” he whispered. “We haven’t had a moment alone all day.” He slipped a hand around her waist. “I haven’t had the time to wish you merry Christmas.”   
He felt her arms circle his neck, the warmth of her breath stimulating his flesh. “It’s been a wonderful day, a gràidh.” Her fingers twirled the hair at the back of his head. “A day I never thought I’d see... us all together like this.”  
He cupped her chin, dropping light kisses on her earlobes, continuing across her jaw line to her lips. “But we did. Thanks, Abi. I can’t tell you how much this means to me.” He pulled her into a probing kiss. “They say you never know what we’ve got until we lose it. I guess I lost it all – so I sure know what means the most.” He felt her eyelashes brush over his cheek in a butterfly kiss as they embraced, “but we’re here, we’re together, and we’re happy,” he murmured.  
“We are, aren’t we? It been a wonderful day, and your presents are so ingenious. I love my kitten, and until now I didn’t know you’d felt anything at that moment too.”  
“Felt?” Heyes gave a wicked chuckle. “Mostly, I saw through that tough lady front, and found a real woman at last. But not just any woman - one who could break into places? I held on to that memory for a long time, Abi – until we made better ones.”  
“You’re incorrigible. Come here to me,” she pulled him down into another embrace, kissing him with growing passion. She pulled back. “We can’t.” Abigail laid a soft hand on his chest. “Neither of us are in any fit state to do anything about it.”  
“I don’t remember being happier than this, Abi, even the last week; staying at your house, relaxing. I’d have been driven mad with boredom before, but I actually enjoyed it. You know that feeling; when you’ve had a long climb, and enjoy the view from the top?”  
“I can’t take credit for that, Mr. Heyes, surely prison taught you patience?”  
“Prison taught me what I wanted.” He paused, dropping his forehead to hers, “and what I didn’t. I had been focusing on big things, when life’s really made up of all the little things. I was stupid.”  
“Well you weren’t today. You did everything just right. The look on those children’s faces when all those balloons poured out was unforgettable.”  
His voice tightened, sounding more pensive. “Yeah, Abi. Children...” He felt her stiffen. “I assume we’ll get some time alone sometime, so... David talked to me about that. Do you want more children?”  
“Well, yes... in time. Not now, not until we know this’ll work.”  
He smiled, pulling her into a hug before the raw, burning pain made him draw back. “Then we need to be a bit more careful, Abi; until it’s time. We seem to be able to make babies a bit too easily. It’d be nice to do it right next time, with all the paperwork in order. Third time lucky?”  
She chuckled through the darkness. “OH, that silver tongue of yours! Is that a proposal? It’s a good job for you I can read between the lines – and agree with you,” he felt her finger trail lazily down his cheek. “Don’t worry about it, I live with a doctor and I’ve learned a whole lot more than I knew the last time we met. Just you leave that to me, huh?” She walked towards the staircase, leading him by the hand, the sound of a piano drifting up from the sitting room. “They’re singing, come on. It time for the adults to kick back and enjoy the night. Let’s go down.”   
They cracked open the door of the sitting room and crept in. Mayzee was sitting at the piano, leading the room in carols. Belle walked over, handing a glass of wine to each of them. “The girls are down for the night?”  
Abigail nodded. “I can’t promise they’re asleep, I’ve no doubt they’re up there giggling, talking, dreaming of things to come, and just being girls, really; another wonderful memory for them.” She smiled, her eyes softening. “Like sisters...”  
Belle’s instincts picked up on the hint of angst in the voice of a woman who had lost her family. She linked arms with her, patting her hand. “Come and sing, Abi. Sing Christmas songs with us.”  
The Kid wandered over at the end of a rousing chorus of ‘God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” and slapped Heyes on the back. “Where’ve you been? You were readin’ a story to Anya. You’ve been ages.”  
Heyes grinned. “I had a moment with Abi too.”  
“Ah!” the Kid’s eyes glittered with amused significance. “Yeah? You’d best be careful, look how easy you two become three.”  
“Funnily enough, we talked about that, and making the next one official.” Heyes frowned, dropping his voice. “You know those things they make – for protection. They make them for women too you know.”  
The Kid mused for a moment. “Well I don’t know about you, Heyes. I only ever used them for women.” He slapped Heyes on the back. “Official sounds real good. C’mon. ‘Silent night.’ You like that one. Even the gang liked that one, Kyle used to take the high part, if we got him drunk enough. It’s Christmas. Come and sing.” 

“MORRISON!?” came the unified response from the two ex-outlaws.  
“That's what the man said.” Harry emphasized. “Tom Morrison, US Marshal.”  
Heyes and Kid exchanged incredulous glances.  
“Why would he be meeting up with George Mitchell?” Jed asked. “What do they have in common?”  
“Me.” Was Heyes' sardonic response.  
“Yeah, I know Heyes.” Jed agreed. “But why would he be after you now? I can't even figure out why Mitchell would be after you, but Morrison? He should be done with all this.”  
Heyes shrugged. “I donno.” He admitted with a sigh. “Maybe he's pissed that after all the hard work he put in to catch us, I only ended up serving five years.”  
“That don't make no sense Heyes.” Kid was adamant. “I got off altogether, so why wouldn't he be after me?”  
“Maybe he is after you.” Cage commented. “It was your fiance who was threatened.”  
“Yeah, but then why would Mitchell be after me?” Jed questioned. “If Morrison and Mitchell are in this together what could be so important to carry on like this? I mean Heyes did his time and received a parole, I went through my trial and received a legal amnesty! What could be so important that both of them would still be after us!?”  
“Maybe they're not in this together.” Cage suggested. “Maybe Morrison is after you because you got off scott free after all the work he put in to arresting you. And Mitchell is after Heyes because of, what?...the hearing? Or, your suspicions about the death of Dr. Morin...? Maybe he blames you for being dismissed from his job.”  
“But Harry has the proof that Mitchell paid Carson to arrange for Harris to go after Beth.” Heyes pointed out. “Which would suggest that Mitchell has something against Jed. But what? And what the hell does Morrison have to do with any of this!?” Heyes sighed and ran his hands through his hair, flinching as he yet again hit the stitches—thank goodness those were coming out soon! “This just doesn't make any sense!”  
“No it doesn't” Cage admitted. “We need to find Mitchell.” Then he turned to Harry. “There was no indication which way he went?”  
“No.” Harry admitted. “And I checked too. Nobody knows which way he went and no one has heard from him since he left.”  
Silence surrounded the room.   
“Well...” Cage surmised. “Perhaps we should start looking for this Morrison fella. I take it from the conversation here that you think it is possible that he might be holding a grudge?” Then he paused, a speculative look crossing his features. “Didn't I hear he was badly injured during one of his campaigns? That was one of your men wasn't it? Could he be holding a grudge against that?”  
“Yeah, I suppose.” Heyes contemplated. “Wheat shot him up pretty good. I'm actually surprised to hear that he's on the hunt again. Figured he was going to be retired for good.”  
“So...there's history there then.”  
“Ohh yeah.” Jed agreed.  
“Do you know his home town?” Cage pushed further. “Do you know people who know him? Anyone who might have information as to where he might be or what cases he might be working on right now.”  
“Well, there is Rick.” Jed surmised. “He lives in the same county as Morrison. He might know.”  
“Yeah.” Heyes thought about it. “And Mike. Last I heard, Mike was still actually working for him “  
“It's a place to start.” Cage emphasized. “It's all we've got.” Then he sighed and looked pointedly at his two companions. “There is another possibility you know.”  
“What's that?” Heyes asked with a hint of suspicion.  
“Morrison is a US Marshal.” Cage stated bluntly. “Is he honourable? Dedicated to his job?”  
Heyes and Kid exchanged looks, both of them grumbled, hating to have to admit it.  
“Yeah.” Kid mumbled. “A little too dedicated if you ask me.”  
Cage sent a questioning glance over to Heyes. Heyes' shoulders slumped, but he nodded.  
“Well then.” The Pinkerton man continued. “Perhaps he's not after either one of you—perhaps he's on the trail of Mitchell.”  
“Yeah.” Heyes let that idea sink in. “But what would he have to go on? We only just found the connection between Carson and Mitchell, and if it wasn't for the telegram in Carson's pocket...”  
“I know.” Cage agreed. “But something might have shown up at their end—we don't know. Unfortunately the numerous different law enforcement agencies don't always share information.”  
Harry snorted and all eyes turned to him.  
“Oh!” Harry was slightly embarrassed. “No, just recognizing the understatement of that observation! Still! Can't be letting all our secrets out of the bag now can we?”

The air of celebration continued, turning the period between Christmas and New Year's into a season, rather than a day. The time filled itself easily in walks, children’s laughter, and good company; the urgency finally gone now that Mitchell was on the run and the Pinkerton Agency was looking into his whereabouts.  
Heyes’ storytelling was a firm favourite with the children; reading them more of Tom Sawyer’s deeds each afternoon, and really putting on a fine show. Abigail had watched both partners closely, observing them in a normal domestic setting for the first time. Heyes treated children the same way he did people of any age, stepping back to assess them before making moves to connect; unlike Jed who got right in there, suddenly tactile and happy to be the clown. Their interactions highlighted the differences between the two men. The Kid had a playful, puppyish side to him, and Abigail couldn’t help but wonder if this is the man he would have been if he’d had a normally family life and structure; whilst Heyes’ behaviour was still measured and careful, testing the waters before opening up.  
Heyes snapped his book shut, smiling at the assembled children. “That’s it. Two chapters to go,” he raised his hand to quash the chorus of objections coming from the children sitting around his feet. “If I do any more I won’t have anything to read tonight, will I?”   
His gaze drifted over to Abigail, holding it for a moment before he smiled warmly and stood. “Go and play children, Uncle Han needs a coffee.”  
He sauntered casually over to the kitchen where Abigail was already pouring out a cup, before holding out the pot to offer a top up to Harry.   
“No thanks, Abi. I’ve had enough.” He sat back, twiddling thoughtfully with his moustache. He glanced round the kitchen. No children, none of the new company around either; only Belle and Abi. Finally! There was freedom to talk. “It’s New Year's tonight. Do we have any plans after that? Am I needed anymore?”  
Abigail and Heyes exchanged a glance. “Well, Cage has got local agents looking around for any information they can get on Mitchell.” Abigail shrugged. “I suppose I need to get out there too, to see what the women know. Men never think to question them properly, but they generally know what’s going on. If I adopt a role I might get them to open up to me.”  
Belle cast a concerned glance over at the table, but continued to peel the potatoes in silence.  
Heyes sighed deeply and sipped his coffee. “I guess this visit is coming to an end. It’s been great.”  
Abigail nodded. “It has been a wonderful oasis of peace. It’s given us time to heal up too. It’s been two weeks now, and I’m a lot better.”  
“You’re not well yet, Abi.” Belle spoke up at last. “Joshua is doing well, but you still have some problems when you move.”  
“I’m fine, Belle.”  
Belle shook her head. “That doesn’t work on me, Abi. I’ve seen how you turn over in bed. You need to take more time.”  
Abigail nodded. “I will, all I’m suggesting is living quietly and gaining the confidence of some local women.” She gave a light smile. “I’ll be good.”  
“Have you told Becky?”  
Abigail‘s shoulders sagged. “No – and I’m not looking forward to it. She won’t want me to leave.”  
“Then don’t go, Abi.” Belle wiped her hands on her apron and came over to sit beside Abigail. “Stay. Becky needs her mother around, she’s missed you.”  
Abigail closed her eyes and bit into her lip. “I need her too, but I can do things none of the men can. We have to finish this, Belle.” Abigail clutched at her hand looking deeply into Belles’ eyes. “Please, just one more push and then we’ll all be safe. Look after her for me.”  
Belle clasped Abigail’s hand tightly. “You know I will.”  
Abigail stood. “Tea... I need a cup of tea. How about you, Belle?”  
“That’d be nice, Abigail.”  
Abigail pumped the water into the teakettle. “So you spoke to Mitchell’s nephew? How about the nephew’s wife?”  
“Nope.” Harry shook his head. “He wouldn’t let me see her.”  
“I see,” Abigail put the kettle on the stove and turned back to the company with a pensive smile, “then she’s the first person I have to get to know. Did you find out anything else?”  
Harry rocked back on his chair. “He comes from farming folks and grew up in that area. From what I can find, he’s lived a respectable life, mixing with local worthies; he courted and married the sheriff’s daughter. His local school turned out quite a few successful folks – two of the girls became schoolteachers, two mayors went there, and then there was Judge Parsons. There was no sign he was a wrong ’un, none at all.”   
Heyes’ head jerked out of pensiveness. “Parsons? Henry Parsons?”  
“Yeah,” Harry nodded. “The one at your trial.”  
Abigail’s jaw dropped open at about the same time as Heyes before they gave a cry in unison. “Harry!”  
“How long have you known this?” Abigail demanded.  
Harry turned bemused eyes on the group. “About two weeks, why?”  
“And you didn’t think to tell us? This is important!” Abigail bustled towards the door, “Cage! Come here, you have to hear this.”  
A pale Heyes sat in silence, his hands forming into fists. Belle walked over and put a protective arm around his shoulders. “Joshua, are you alright?”  
“Yeah,” he muttered, aimlessly. “Judge Parsons?”  
Cage appeared at the kitchen door. “What!? What is it?”  
Abigail grabbed his hand. “Mitchell the warden, he went to school with the Judge at Mr. Heyes trial.”   
“How do you know?” Cage demanded.  
“Harry found it out... about two weeks ago.”  
Cage glowered at Harry shifting in his seat. “Why the...” Cage paused, glancing at his respectable sister and moderating his tone. “Why didn’t you tell us this?”   
“I didn’t think it was important,” Harry murmured, uneasily.  
“You didn’t? Even I think he gave Heyes an unfair sentence – and you’re supposed to be his friend!” spluttered Cage incredulously. “Come with me. We’re gonna go over every detail and see what else you’ve ignored.”  
Abigail bustled over to Heyes, her brow creasing in concern. “Mr. Heyes, what’s wrong?”  
He raised lost eyes up to meet hers. “The Judge and Mitchell? They knew each other?”  
“It would appear so.” Abigail held his hand. “It may not mean anything, we’ll check it out.”  
“Did they get together to kill me, and hurt anyone I care for? Why would they hate me so much?”  
Abigail rubbed his arm. “Mr. Heyes, I don’t know. It might just be a coincidence. Let’s wait and see, huh? Bite size pieces, the more you know, the more you can deal with things; but let’s just take it one step at a time.”   
Heyes sat silently, feeling the oppressiveness of his previous life settling down upon him again. This was too much! Had there really been a conspiracy of such depth and hostility all aimed at hurting him and the ones he loved? And for what?! What had he done to cause such hatred to be lashed out against him?  
Abi nestled in closer and hugged his arm while Belle continued to stand behind him, her arms draped protectively around his shoulders. She held him in a light embrace so as not to aggravate his burns and yet still transmit what support she could to her friend. Heyes gave an appreciative sigh and taking the hands of both ladies he brought them up to his lips and kissed them.  
“I'm alright.” He assured them.   
He felt Belle lean down and give him a kiss on the top of his head and he smiled quietly.  
“You are looking better.” Belle told him. “Especially since the remnants of your last battle are beginning to fade away. But how are you feeling Joshua—really? Are you still having those nightmares?”  
“No!” Heyes assured her. “No, those have stopped. I still get bad dreams, but nothing like the night horrors I was getting. They've disappeared just like Doc said they would.”  
Abi and Belle exchanged worried glances.  
“Are you still talking to dead people a gràidh?” Abi asked him softly.  
Heyes smiled and gave both their hands a gentle squeeze. “No.” He assured them. “Putting Doc's murderer to rest seems to have put Doc to rest as well. He hasn't been around to visit....”  
“That's a good thing.” Abi assured him. “You don't want to be tying him to this earth. It's time he moved on.”  
“Yeah.” Heyes mumbled. “I'll miss him.”

Abigail sat beside her daughter, her stomach sinking at the conversation she was about to have. “Anya, mama’s going to have to go tomorrow.” Her heart became leaden at the huge, dark eyes staring questioningly into hers and at the angst in Rebecca’s voice.  
“Why, mama? Can’t we just go home?”  
Abigail stretched an arm around the girl, pulling her to her in a warm hug. “What did Uncle Cage tell you about coming here?”  
“He said he was looking after me for you.”  
Abigail nodded. “And he has, a’gràidh. You are safe and that is the most important thing in the world to me. Why do you think you had to leave the house?”  
The child’s eyes glittered with suspicion. “Uncle Cage had his gun out, and Aunt Hester was hiding us.” Rebecca tilted her chin. “I didn’t cry, mama. I kept quiet and did what I was told.”  
“I know you did, Anya.” Abigail dropped a kiss on top of her head. “You’re a very brave girl, and I’m so proud of you.” Abigail paused. “Somebody tried to hurt Beth, so we brought her to our home to hide her from them. We think they found out where she was hiding, so Uncle Cage brought you all here to keep you all safe. I want you all to stay here until Uncle Cage can catch them.”  
Rebecca sat processing this information for a moment. “But why do you have to go, mama?”  
Abigail sighed. “I can help to find the bad man. You know women like to talk, don’t you?”  
Rebecca nodded. “Especially Mrs. Adler.”   
“Well, mama is going to be around women who knew the bad man, to see if they’ll say something to help us find out where he’s hiding. They won’t tell the police, but we think they might let something slip to another woman. They won’t think I’m working with the law and might just say anything that comes into their heads – without thinking too hard about what they’ve said.”  
“Like Mrs. Adler does?”  
Abigail chuckled lightly. “Exactly like Mrs. Adler does. You do want mama to help keep Beth safe, don’t you?”  
“Yes, mama, but why does he want to hurt her?”  
“We’re not sure, we need to find that out too, Anya. We think the man might not like some of her friends.”  
“Mama, is it dangerous? You won’t get hurt, will you?”  
“Oh, my wee girl, no I won’t. I’ll probably be bored stiff, listening to lots of people like Mrs. Adler and I’ll missing you dreadfully – but I won’t get hurt.”  
“How long will you be gone?”  
“I’ll be back as soon as I can, Anya. It all depends how long it’ll take for me to find anything out.”  
Anya nodded, toying aimlessly with the puzzle book in her hand, her bottom lip trembling. “I’ll miss you. I don’t want you to go, Mama.”  
Abigail dropped her head, drinking in a great breath of her daughter’s scent. “And I don’t want to go either, but grownups sometimes have to do things they don’t want to. You do like it here, don’t you, because if you don’t, I can find somewhere else?”  
“Oh, I like it fine, mama. I have children to play with, and Mrs. Stamford has so many good books.”  
“As long as you like it here,” Abigail stood, placing a hand on each of her daughter’s shoulders. “When I get back we’ll go on a special trip. We’ll go to San Francisco and see all the sights, and you can see the sea lions in the bay. We’ll go to a beach resort and you can paddle in the sea, and play on the sand. Would you like that?”  
Rebecca’s eyes sparkled. “Ooh, mama! I’ve never seen the sea, I’ve only read about it. Have you?  
Abigail smiled. “I was born on a little Island, a'ghaol. It was surrounded by the sea, but it wasn’t warm very often where I come from. Where we’re going it will be sunny, and warm,” she drew Rebecca into a hug, “and SO much fun.”   
“I’d love that, Mama.”  
Abigail nodded. “And you shall have a special new outfit. You have been very patient and brave while we help the Jordans, so you deserve a treat. Just promise me one thing?”  
“What, mama?”  
“Don’t let J.J. know about any of this. He’s younger than you and might be frightened. If you do need to talk to anyone about any of this Mrs. Jordan will be there for you.”  
Rebecca nodded. “I’ll look after J.J. - and Mama?”  
“Yes?”  
“Tha gràdh mòr agam ort.”  
Abigail smiled. “Aw, and I love you too, Anya. With all my heart.” 

Heyes grasped Abigail’s hand as she left the room. “Should you have told her all that? You’ll frighten her.”  
“You were listening, Mr. Heyes?”  
“Yeah, I was. She’s only ten, Abi.”  
“And she’s as smart as a whip. If I don’t tell her anything at all, her mind will run away with itself, and she come up with something far worse.”  
“Are you sure?”  
Abigail smiled patiently at him. “I know my daughter, Mr. Heyes. She needs some information to process or she’ll over think it.”  
Heyes arched an eyebrow. “I guess. I wonder where she gets that from?”  
“I wonder?” Abigail replied, archly.  
“So – we’re moving out in the morning?”  
Abigail nodded. “Yes, we have to get on, as lovely as this has been. The new year starts with work.”   
The assembled company gathered in the hallway bundled up against the cold. The Kid gathered Beth up in a long, lingering embrace while Belle and Abigail shared a look of amusement at J.J.’s face screwed up in objection. “That’s just soppy!” he declared, folding his arms. “When I’m big, you won’t catch me kissing girls.”  
Rebecca nodded in agreement. “When I’m big I won’t kiss boys either.”  
Heyes grinned and crouched down to give her a hug. “What!? No goodbye to Uncle Han?”  
“Oh, yes. I’ve got to say goodbye to Uncle Han,” she stretched her arms around his neck and planted a smacker of a kiss on his cheek. “What?” Rebecca pouted indignantly at J.J. “I said I wouldn’t do it when I was big. I’m still only ten.”  
“You’re bigger than me,” J.J. objected.   
“Everybody’s bigger than you,” Rebecca retorted. “That doesn’t count.”  
Heyes pulled out a book and handed it to Rebecca. “I want to give you this before I go. Uncle Jed gave it to me for Christmas, but I’ve read it now and I thought you’d like it, now we’ve finished Tom Sawyer.”  
Rebecca read falteringly from the cover. “The Adventures of Hunkl... berry Finn.”  
Abigail smiled and pointed along the gilded letters. “Huckleberry. The word is ‘Huckleberry,’ and this is a wonderful book. I think you’ll enjoy this a lot. Say thank you to Uncle Han.”  
“Thank you, Uncle Han,” Rebecca dutifully totted out.   
“You’re welcome,” Heyes replied, glancing at Abigail who opened the book to read the flyleaf. She arched a brow and closed the book again, bending to hug her daughter.  
“Oh, you! Bliadhna Mhath Ùr, A'ghaol. I’ll be back as soon as I possibly can. You be good for Mrs. Jordan and Mrs. Stamford.”  
“I will, mama, and Happy New Year to you too.”  
The party exchanged the last embraces and climbed into the wagon behind Henry Stamford. It jerked into action hands waving frantically to their loved ones. “Well you found a way, Mr. Heyes,” murmured Abigail.  
“Found a way to what?” Heyes asked.  
“To give her a book with your name in it. You don’t think I missed that, do you?”  
The Kid turned to stare at his cousin. “Heyes, you didn’t. You promised.”  
“Don’t worry, Jed. He signed the book from Uncle Han. He also wrote that it was based in a town in Missouri called ‘Hannibal,’ and he underlined the word, ‘Hannibal.’” Abigail watched the partners’ exchange a conversation in a glance with a chuckle. “Clever, Mr. Heyes, very clever. I will point that out to her when she’s old enough to know the truth. I see that brain of yours is kicking back into action again.” 

 

To Be Continued


	8. Gone Fishin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cage goes off on his own to follow up on promising leads
> 
> Harry takes a more active role in the undercover aspects of the investigation
> 
> Jed and Beth discuss their future
> 
> Heyes and Abi reestablish their commitment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild foreplay
> 
> Explicit sex and bondage

GONE FISHIN'

 

Three pairs of brown eyes and one pair of blue looked up and down the unimpressive, main street. “So; this is Jacksonville?”  
“Lovely - even the ice is brown,” murmured Abigail, stepping back from the splashes of grimy slush being cast up by the wheels of a passing wagon.  
Harry cast out an arm. “The hotel’s over that way.”   
“Yeah, maybe we’ll cheer up after a meal?” the Kid suggested. “Christmas sure is over, ain’t it?”   
Abigail frowned. “We can’t eat together. We’re not supposed to know one another.”  
The Kid’s face fell. “Does that mean I’m supposed to eat with Harry? I think Heyes should stick with him, and I should play your husband.”  
Harry scowled. “No offence meant, huh, Kid? Why don’t I play her husband, so you two can stick together?”  
Abigail sighed. “Because you’re already playing the detective, and they already know you as that. You’ve been here before, remember?”   
“Oh, yeah, right. I forgot.” Harry frowned. “Hey! I’m not playing detective. I am one.”  
“Glad you remembered,” muttered Heyes. “Look, Abigail and I are man and wife, Harry’s a detective, and the Kid’s a drifter. We got off the same train, and that’s it. Stick to it. We can meet secretly if we have to.”  
“Why do you get to be her husband?” the Kid demanded.  
“I guess she doesn’t mind sharing a room with me, Kid,” snorted Heyes. “Maybe she thinks it’s a bit more... realistic?”  
Abigail lifted her bag and headed towards the hotel. “Why don’t I just dress up as a nun and dump the lot of you. Why am I so popular all of a sudden?”  
“It ain’t that, Abi.” The Kid slid a surreptitious glance at Harry, “I guess I’ll be lonely...” he dropped his voice to a whisper, “or stuck with Harry.”  
Abigail nodded. “Fine. Meet Mr. Heyes in the saloon, ‘remembering’ him from the journey. Make friends, play poker, have a drink. You all need to be mixing with the locals to see what we can find out. Just don’t win very often. Try to be normal.”  
Heyes flashed a dimpled grin. “I’ll do my best, Abi, but I can’t promise ‘normal.’ What about charming?”   
“I’ll settle for useful.” Abigail lifted her skirts, stepping down onto the boards placed to protect footwear from the paste-like, half-frozen mud.   
“What about me, I’ll be on my own,” moaned Harry, despondently.  
“You can go to the saloon, can’t you?” Abigail negotiated her way over the planks to the opposite sidewalk, “and I’m sure Jed and Mr. Heyes can sneak into your room with a bottle, and give you a game of cards or two sometimes. I won’t be doing any of those things. I don’t gamble.”  
Heyes held up a hand to help her climb onto the sidewalk. “Not with cards, you don’t, Abi. You work on short odds plenty of other times though. You make my blood run cold with the risks you take.”  
“Most women find that men are a big enough gamble,” she looked up at the hotel sign before she grinned at Heyes. “Stop looking so happy, Mr. Heyes. You’re supposed to be married.”   
“Yeah,” Heyes chuckled, “time to look downtrodden and put upon. Let’s have dinner and then meet in our room. We finally have privacy to talk about our next move.”

 

Heyes opened the door in response to the tentative tap, smiling at Harry’s excessively furtive glance around the hall. “Get in here, Harry. You couldn’t look any more suspicious if you had a bandana and a gun.”  
Harry closed the door quietly behind him. Abigail sat on the end of the bed, leaning against the brass bedstead. He wandered over to the wooden chair in the corner, the Kid already occupying the one beside the dresser. Heyes dropped a shot glass on the top of the dresser and produced a bottle. “Drink?”  
Harry nodded. “I wasn’t expecting that. Yeah, a drink’d be great.”  
Heyes handed the glass over to the detective before lifting his own from the nightstand and sitting beside Abigail. “So, we finally have privacy. What do we think the plan is?”  
“Well, I think I need to start asking more people in town if they have any idea where Mitchell went,” Harry suggested.  
“Nah, not yet,” Heyes shook his head. “Just hold tight, wait until we infiltrate the people here, then Abi can work on the fall out when your questions annoy them.”  
“So what do I do until then?” Harry demanded.  
Heyes shrugged. “Buy a book? Try to look as though you’re following a lead, but keep away from anyone in particular until we tell you who to question.”   
“Who did you deal with here?” Abigail asked. “I need to find out about them and their backgrounds before I target them.”  
“The telegraph officer at the Western Union, he goes by the name of Rosenberg.” Harry sipped pensively at his whiskey. “And the man who runs the newspaper here, The Weekly Epitaph; his name was Stanton, Ed Stanton. He was some kind of relative – he called Mitchell ‘Uncle George.’”  
There was a moment of silence. Everyone felt the instant stress in the room and as a unit, they all glanced over a Curry.   
“Stanton!” The Kid’s blanched face stood out in the shadows.  
Abigail frowned. “Do you know that name?”  
“Stanton...” The Kid’s voice trembled. “There was a Mrs. Stanton at my trial.” He raised haunted eyes. “I killed her pa.”  
Abigail stood, assessing the Kid’s reaction, surprised at how this name seemed to have hit him like a rock between the eyes. She walked over and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Why, Jed?”  
The Kid gulped, shaking his head and dropping it into his hands. “Is that why? Oh my God, Beth! What did I do to her? This is my fault?” He stared at Heyes with angst whirling in his deep-blue eyes. “Heyes, I’m so sorry. I nearly killed you.”   
Abigail crouched, putting a hand on each knee. “Why, Jed,” she probed gently and sensitively. “Tell me why you killed him, so I can help?”  
“Revenge. He was one of the raiders who killed my folks. I didn’t know a girl was there until it was too late. She saw it all.”  
The room fell silent, punctuated only by the Kid’s heaving breath. Abigail stood and hugged him to her. “Jed, I understand revenge. I wanted to see the man who killed my father dead, it consumed me... it changed me.”  
The Kid turned glittering eyes up to her. “There was a little girl there, not much older than Anya. I’m no better than he was. I killed her pa, right before her eyes.”  
Abigail shook her head. “That’s not true. You killed out of revenge. He killed and raped people who’d done nothing to him. What was the woman’s first name, Jed?”  
The Kid’s eyes seemed to focus on something disturbing in his mind’s eye. “Julia, Julia Stanton.”  
“Harry, was Ed Stanton’s wife called Julia?” Abigail demanded.  
Harry shook his head ineffectually. “I dunno. I never got that far.”  
Abigail fixed Harry with a determined stare. “Harry, I need you to send a telegram urgently. Get the transcript from the trial sent here. I need it, right away.”  
“I guess I need to get down to the newspaper office tomorrow,” mused Heyes. “I’ll see if he’s got anyone advertising for help, and find out what I can, that way.”  
Abigail nodded. “Yes, most of the Missouri Bushwhackers were protestant, we have to take a shot in the dark; so tell them I am too, and ask where the nearest church is. It might get him to open up, and I can start to mix with the women.” She glanced over at Harry. “Why are you still here? You need to formally request the transcript.”  
“Now?”  
“Yes, Harry – now!” Abigail turned back to the Kid, holding his lost, foggy head in his hands, the curve of his back almost like a foetal curl. She looked down on him, the famed gunman, able to chill even the most hardened criminals with one icy glance; but all she saw was a frightened little boy cradling himself in mute comfort. “Och, mo bhalachan.” She embraced him around the shoulders. “Jed, don’t. Please don’t beat yourself up about this, we don’t know anything yet. Besides, why would killing that man provide a motive to hurt Mr. Heyes, or Anya. It doesn’t add up.”  
“Maybe they decided to hurt anyone close to me?” moaned the Kid.  
“But Anya’s not close to you; well she certainly wasn’t then, you didn’t even know her when Beth was shot...and I hadn’t been in your life for ten years,” Abigail dropped her fingers under his chin, drawing his face up to hers. “No. There’s more to it. You know when everything drops into place, and this isn’t it, I’ll stake my life on it.”  
The Kid’s eyes followed Harry from the room, watching the door close behind him. “Abi, you don’t know how it feels to kill anyone. How it stays with you.”  
Her eyebrows arched. “I was charged with murder, Jed. Have you forgotten that?”  
The Kid’s eyes closed slowly, guilt gnawing in to his heart. “Yeah, I had for a moment; but it’s not the same. Becky’s blood was still warm on your skin. This was wilful, ice-cold murder.”  
“No, Jed, it wasn’t. It was a passion which had burned in your heart since you saw your family butchered. It was calculated; but no court would hang you for it, in fact many men would have done the same.”  
The Kid turned his face up to her in surprise. “You think so?”  
She nodded. “I know so; don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t right – anymore than it was when I shot Knap, but an eye for an eye is so primal it’s in the Old Testament. It’s been around since the dawn of time, because it’s part of us.” She gripped his hand, addressing him gently. “We all do things wrong, Jed, but this doesn’t make you a monster. It makes you a normal human being, with all the frailties which come right along with that condition.”  
The Kid shrugged. “So, she’s no worse if she’s takin’ revenge either.”  
Abigail embraced the Kid once more. “You’re wrong. You never went after anyone but a cruel man, Jed. It wouldn’t even have occurred to you to hurt that girl, intentionally or otherwise. Whoever’s doing this is hiding, and hurting people who did nothing but care for you.” She pulled back, holding his face in both hands. “You’re better than that – better than anyone involved in this murderous campaign. If they have a problem, they should deal with you, but I suspect they’re afraid to. Drink your whiskey, in fact, if there’s another glass I’ll join you.”   
They paused for a few minutes in subdued silence, gently nursing their blues along with their drinks; their respective pasts hanging over them like a sombre fug of regret. Heyes shook his head. “Kid, we are who we are. Maybe we’re worse than we want to be, maybe we’re even working on selfish self-interest; but we’re trying to make things right. What does the bible say about rejoicing in heaven when a sinner repents? I was at my lowest point, and just wanted to die; but look at the Christmas we just had. It had enough memories for a lifetime,” Heyes and the Kid locked eyes in an unspoken conversation. “Prison taught me some important things. When you think it’s all over, when you think there’s nowhere else to go... when you think you’re done...you’re not, there’s more! It also showed me you can’t learn from your mistakes until you’re done denying them. You admitted it Kid. You apologised. If anyone’s got issues they should deal with you, not Beth or Anya.”  
The Kid sighed. “Heyes, would it have helped if any of the men who hit our places had apologised? It ain’t enough.”  
“Nope, it’s not, Kid. But it’s a start. It’s something to build on. I know it’d help me to know they regretted it... and meant it.”  
Blue eyes burned across the room. “Yeah, I guess it’s a start. Maybe they need to know I really am sorry.”  
Abigail hugged the Kid close once more. “It’s all you can do, extend the olive branch, maybe write a letter and wait, but I do think you need to keep a low profile, or even leave. Go back to Kansas City; if you’re recognised here it could lead to a bullet in the back. It’s too risky for you, Jed.”  
“But you need me,” the Kid protested.  
”We need you safe and well, Jed. Go back to Mayzee’s, it’s not too far, but this isn’t a good place for you,” murmured Abigail. “We’ll see you on the train in the morning. You need some good guns to make sure you’re safe. Don’t shave, pull your hat low, and keep low profile. We’ll get Harry to get you a ticket in the morning.” 

 

Ed Stanton smiled at the dark eyed man in the brown suit who stood looking at the notice board. “Can I help you?”  
Heyes turned, nodding gently before he tore his gaze away from the advertisements. “I’m looking for work. I’ve just arrived in town with my wife, and the newspaper office is usually a good place to start.”  
“What line are you in?”  
“Banking, clerical work, that sort of thing, although I can turn my hand to just about anything if I have to. I’m not scared of hard work,” he lied. “I was brought up on a farm.”  
Ed lifted a wire basket and flicked through some paperwork. “What brings you to this town? You got folks here?”  
Heyes’ eyes darkened. “Nope. I’ve got nobody left but my wife.”   
“No? Then why choose here?”  
Heyes shrugged. “Because I got married and I got to thinking of starting a family. I came from hereabouts as a boy. I swore I wouldn’t come back, but there were good memories too.”  
“You came from here?”   
“Nah, the general area, but I’ll settle in the first nice town with a future. We’ve moved twice already. The wife has firm views on what makes a good place to raise a family; church, schooling, community – that kind of thing. She found the others a bit rough and ready.”  
“Maybe it’ll be third time lucky,” Ed placed some papers on the desk. “Can you read?”  
Heyes nodded. “A real bookworm. I always have been.”   
Ed narrowed his eyes pensively. “Here are some ads. Have you ever worked in a newspaper office?”  
Heyes arched his eyebrows. “Never. Why? Have you got something?”  
“This town’s growing, which means more news. It’s getting harder and harder to man the desk, get the stories, and set the type all on my own. I was thinking about taking on someone else.” Ed’s pale blue eyes drifted up and down in appraisal. “You seem like an educated man. What’s your name?”  
“Chester Brown. I could man the desk, but I know nothing about setting type,” Heyes sighed.  
“I wouldn’t expect you to know that, but if you’re literate I can teach you.” Ed walked around the desk and perched on it. “Your wife; is she from around here too?”  
Heyes shook his head. “Scottish. She used to be a schoolteacher.”  
Ed’s brow furrowed as he processed the information. “Scottish? A good hard-working people.”  
“Yup, and hard-headed,” Heyes chuckled. “Her folks were farmers, just like mine, but they made sure she was educated too. Her pa had a thing about that.” Heyes slipped into his smoothest, scam-artist persona. “Speaking of Abigail, is there a church locally? A protestant one? She asked me to find that out.”  
Ed’s eyes brightened. “Certainly; On Union Street, my wife, Julia, and I attend there. Newcomers are always welcome. Abigail? A lovely name.”   
“Thanks, so is Julia.” Heyes let his shoulders relax as though a burden had just rolled off. “Now this job, how much would it pay?”  
Ed stood. “Come tomorrow and see if you suit the work. I won’t pay until I can see if you’re a quick learner. If you are, I can offer fifteen dollars a week.”  
Heyes gave the proffered hand a firm shake, his eyes glistening as he spoke with real veracity. “This is more than I could have ever hoped for. Abi will be delighted, and don’t you worry – I’ll pick things up so fast it’ll make your head spin.” 

Cage stepped off the train in Cheyenne Wyoming bundling his warm winter coat even more snugly around him. Damn but that wind was cold! Didn't it ever let up? He stood on the platform, head and shoulders above everyone else and looked around to get his bearings.  
He already had an appointment set up with Judge Parsons for the following morning, but in the mean time he had another errand to run. He quickly got himself booked into the hotel for the night and then hailed a cab to take him to the Government buildings and hoped that he would be able to get more than just a few questioned answered there.  
It took him a little while of hallway cruising before finally finding the office he sought. He was far more familiar with this building's equivalent in Colorado but basically they were all laid out the same so very few questions were needed before he was headed in the right direction. Then there it was; the sought after office door, with the top half made up of frosted glass and the heading printed across it in black lettering; United States Marshal's Service. Wyoming Division.  
Cage turned the door knob and entered, finding himself in a small waiting room with average carpeting on the floors and a few fairly comfortable armchairs in attendance for those awaiting an audience. A couple of long strides took him up to the secretary's desk and that gentleman turned a progressing shade of pale as his eyes were drawn up the height of the man until finally connecting with the blue eyes that stared down at him.

“Ahh...”- gulp- “...may I help you sir?”

Cage took perverse pleasure in towering over the secretary, knowing full well the effect his above average height had on most underlings.

“I would like to have a word with your boss...a Mr. Collins, is it?” Cage informed him. “It won't take long and it is important.”

“Oh, well he is rather busy...” Cage leaned over the man just a touch further, his blue eyes hardening. “...but ah..oh...perhaps he can fit you in if it's just for a few moments.” The secretary gulped again and stood in preparation of interrupting his superior. “Who may I say is calling?”

“Micajah Attwater.” Cage informed him. “Pinkerton's.”

“Oh! Ah, yes. Just a moment please.” 

The secretary scuttled away, knocked on the door to the inner office and entered upon hearing the acknowledgement. He closed the door behind him and Cage stood quietly, waiting while the sounds of muffled murmuring drifted to him from behind the barricade. An eyebrow went up when the only decipherable word; 'Pinkerton's!?' came at him like a shot through a pillow.   
The door opened and the secretary emerged and with a nod and a smile, motioned the large detective into the Director's office. Cage stepped forward and extended a hand to the seated individual and smiled a greeting.

“Good afternoon Mr. Collins,” Cage said. “Thank you for meeting me on such short notice.”

“Short notice!?” Mr. Collins extrapolated, ignoring the proffered hand. “More like no notice! What the hell does a Pinkerton want with the Marshal's Department!?”

“Well....” Cage explained, taking note that a chair had not been offered. “we have reason to believe that one of your marshals may be inadvertently crossing over into one of our ongoing investigations. I was hoping we might head off any misunderstandings that might arise because of this.”

“Really,” Mr Collins was sceptical. “And what investigation might this be?”

“My colleagues and I have been looking into a series of assaults made against a young woman in Colorado. It appears there were a number of people involved in these attempts on this woman's life and the trail leading us to the main suspect has taken us all the way into Kansas and Missouri. Indeed, it was in Jacksonville Missouri that a Marshal Morrison intruded on our investigation, effectively scaring off the suspect before we had a chance to apprehend him.”

“Really,” Mr. Collins sounded sceptical again. “Marshal Morrison?”

“Yes,” Cage confirmed. “That was the name given to my junior detective when he arrived in Jacksonville just before Christmas. I would appreciate it if you could get in touch with your Marshal and call him off, or at least inform him of our involvement in this case and that we would be quite appreciative of any information he has already gathered.”

Collins smiled wisely. “Yes, I'm sure you would be,” he snarked. “In any case, your junior detective got his information wrong.”

“Oh? In what way?”

“Marshal Morrison was injured in the line of duty a couple years ago and he is hardly in any condition to be traipsing off across the damn country in search of elusive so-called murderers!” Collins informed him. “He is in semi-retirement and is mainly stuck behind a desk! So, as you see you have been mis-informed. Perhaps your junior detective is still too junior to be allowed out on his own yet.”

Cage smiled a smile that Heyes would have recognized from early on in their acquaintanceship. “Yes. I had heard that the Marshal had been injured. Terrible thing that.”

“Hmm.”

“However, wounds do heal,” Cage conjectured. “Perhaps he has gone off on some mission of his own—one that you are not aware of.”

“I am aware of everything my marshals are doing, Mr. Attwater!” Collins growled back. “Now if you don't mind, I have a lot to get done today and you are here without an appointment! Good day!”

“Ah, yes. One more thing though, before I go,” Cage refused to take the hint. Collins was turning purple. “Perhaps you could tell me where I might find Marshal Morrison so that I may discuss....”

“NO!” Collins was adamant. “GOOD DAY MR. ATTWATER!” 

A couple of hours later found Cage settling down to a nice dinner over at one of the finer dining establishments in town. A perfected steak and a bottle of dry red wine was being greatly appreciated by the Pinkerton man who felt at this point that the only thing missing was the company of a fine lady—preferably one with a Scottish accent. Oh well, he needed to access his professional intentions anyways.  
He wasn't too discouraged by the lack of information he received from Mr. Collins. It really wasn't any less than what he had expected. If the Marshal's Office did know what Morrison was up to then obviously they were keeping it under wraps—under cover, perhaps? But at least still working within the boundaries of the law. If, on the other hand Morrison had disappeared without the knowledge or direction from his superiors then that would suggest that Heyes and Curry were right in that the Marshal was coming after them. Thirdly, if Morrison was indeed sitting behind a desk in his hometown then Cage would personally see to it that Harry found himself another line of work—preferably in Alaska!  
It didn't matter to Cage that Collins had refused to give him Morrison's home town since Cage already had than information. Cage had simply asked the director about that just to see how far he could push the man before getting an eruption. Not that far, as it turned out. Cage smiled at the memory.  
So—game plan. Tomorrow morning he would keep his appointment with Judge Parsons then he would catch the train, or the coach to Murreyville and do some detection work himself. Ask some questions, knock on some doors. Who knows? Maybe Morrison was to be found at home—Cage highly doubted it though.

“Julia?” Abigail’s eyes gleamed. “It’s her. It’s got to be. So, we have to find out if Mitchell was related to her or her husband.” She tapped her fingers pensively against her chin. “There has to be a link between this and what’s going on. I don’t believe in coincidences.”  
Heyes frowned. “But you told the Kid you didn’t think it was connected.”   
“I told him I didn’t think it was the answer to everything, that doesn’t mean it’s not relevant.” Abigail picked up her hat, adjusting it in front of the mirror. “I’ll head to the church tomorrow,” a smile twitched mischievously at her lips. “I must check it out and see if I deem the place suitable for my pious needs. If the whole family are from here it could be fairly easy for us to find out the connection.”  
“And how do we go about following Mitchell’s trail.” Heyes raised his eyebrows in question. “I find it hard to believe she’s going to tell you where he’s gone.”  
“The same way the law always works – follow the money.” Abigail smiled at Heyes as he held the door open for her. “He worked for nearly thirty years, and built up some savings. He won’t have just walked away from all that, and from what Harry told me, he sold his house too. He’ll have done something with that cash, and that’s how we’ll find him.”  
“But how?” Heyes held out an arm to escort Abigail down the hallway, “he won’t have been stupid enough to have forwarded the money from one bank to another.”  
Mystery played in Abigail’s dark eyes. “I would never have shown you when you were a criminal, but now?” She shrugged. “You have great promise. There’s no harm in you knowing it.”  
“No harm?” He looked down at her. “Abigail, if I can get off this parole, or at least get the terms relaxed, I plan on opening a detective agency.”  
“Really?”  
“Yes, with the Kid. We know how to plan the best robberies, plug the holes in those and we’ll stop just about anyone, but you... you could teach me things.”  
They walked downstairs.  
“And where are you planning on opening this detective agency, Mr. Heyes?”  
He hesitated. “I like where I live, Abigail. There’d be no point in lying... and if I have to start it while I’m still on parole, I couldn’t really move anyway.” He felt her stiffen beside him. “What do you think about that, Abi?”  
“I think you’ll be a wonderful detective, Mr. Heyes. In fact, I think you’ll be wonderful at anything you set your mind to.”  
“That’s not what I’m asking, and you know it, Abi.”  
He felt her breath come in heavy gulps beside him. “Does anyone other than Jed feature in your plans?”  
He clasped the hand she had on his arm. “Abi, you and Anya give me the reason to plan a life. What do you think of those plans? Could you share them? Would you move Anya?”  
He felt her fingers tighten around his. “Yes, Mr. Heyes, I can share them. I can teach you what I know and, when it’s right, I will be prepared to move.” Abigail looked up at him. “I’m only trying to make sure things are stable for her, Chester.” She grimaced. “Why did you pick that name? It’s almost as bad as Hannibal.”  
“A horrible name is a good alias,” they clattered out onto the sidewalk, heading to the restaurant. “Nobody ever thinks you’d choose a name like Chester.”   
They paused at the restaurant door.  
“You’ve given me a lot to think about,” Abigail smiled at him. “Besides, you’ve met Mrs. Adler. I don’t think I could take her nosiness after having been involved in a shootout, and having had strange men staying in the house overnight, I need to think about moving now anyway.” 

The next morning found Cage enjoying a hearty breakfast and some 'good' coffee for a change. That's not to say that Mayzee couldn't make good coffee, but Cage liked his with a little bit more bite to it than what his sister tended to perk for breakfast. Now the one time they let Heyes make the coffee—that was good coffee! It was nice to know the man had some talents aside from blowing up safes and running a scam. Cage had his doubts about how those two were going to make out trying to make honest livings and he sat munching on his toast as he calculated their chances.  
Suddenly he realized that he had allowed time to slip away from him. He took one more appreciative gulp from his coffee cup, got himself organized and then bundled up in preparation for the walk over to the courthouse. It was still a chilly morning and snow was threatening which was not good news for him. He wanted to get over to Murreyville after this appointment and then get back to Abi with whatever information he was able to collect, so snow would not help their plans at all right now.  
He stepped out onto the boardwalk and gave an involuntary shiver as the morning air hit him and he buttoned up his coat even higher and began the quick walk that would hopefully only take about ten minutes. 

“Good morning Judge Parsons.” Cage extended his hand and the Judge accepted it. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”  
“That's find Mr. Attwater,” Parsons assured him. “I don't have a case until this afternoon so we have a few moments. It's a little early for drinks—would you care for some coffee?”  
“That would be fine, thank you.”  
“JACKSON!”  
“Yessir, Judge!?”  
“Bring in the coffee tray will you?” he ordered. “I could do with a cup myself after that travesty of a hearing this morning!”  
“Yessir.”  
“Have a seat Mr. Attwater,” Parsons offered. “Make yourself comfortable.”   
“Thank you sir.” Cage settled into the plush leather armchair and anticipated a strong cup of coffee after his rather chilling walk over to the courthouse. “Have a difficult case this morning?”  
“Oh just some petty nickle and dime thief, thinking he was going plea bargain because he's out of work and has a wife and new baby to feed!” the Judge snorted in disgust. “A man breaks the law he should expect to have to pay the price! If he couldn't afford a family then he shouldn't have started one!”   
“Ahh, yes. Of course.” Cage shifted uncomfortably. “What was his sentence?”  
“I was planning on sending him to the Territorial prison for a year!” the Judge grumbled. “But Sheriff Turner—damn but that man can be a bleeding heart sometimes!--Anyway he said the family truly was destitute and the defendant had been working, but fell off a ladder and broke his leg so he lost his job and hadn't been able to find another.” Parsons rolled his eyes at what he thought of that excuse. “Suggested we might be doing better in the long run if we found him a job! Can you imagine!? Man breaks the law and instead of being punished for it we find him a job!? What the hell is this territory coming to?”  
“Yes,” Cage commented. “How radical.”   
“Yes!” Parsons didn't notice the ironic tone. “Oh well. I suppose if it keeps him off the streets. And apparently the prison is getting somewhat over crowded these days. Hear tell there's plans to move it to Rawlins eventually but I think it's just talk—damn, the prison isn't that old, no reason to replace it yet. What do they think? The territory is made of money!? Hell, if we become a state this year like everyone's predicting I think whatever money there is will be going into other things! Replace the prison—what the hell are they thinking?”  
“I have heard that some of the inmates are having to double up now, it's so over-crowded...”  
“So what?” Parsons snorted. “Do they think it's a hotel? Next thing ya' know they'll be demanding rights....”  
Fortunately this colloquy wanna be was cut short by Jackson returning with the coffee.  
“Here you are sir,” Jackson acknowledged the guest as he placed a cup and saucer on his side table. “Would you like cream and sugar?”  
“Just some cream, that would be nice. Thank you.”  
Jackson placed another cup and saucer in front of his boss and leaving the trolly with the carafe for refills, he discreetly left the office.   
Both gentlemen took an appreciative sip from their cups and settled back to get down to the real reason for the visit.  
“So,” Parsons began. “you mentioned some interest in the Heyes case.”  
“Yes, that's correct.”  
“Wanting to do a case study are you?” Parsons assumed with a smug smile. “The best way to catch them at their game is to study someone who was at the top of it! And he would be a good one to study that's for sure! Typical arrogance and self-serving attitude. Truly believed he was justified in the things he did! Even lied to his friends...” Parson took another sip of coffee and shook his head regretfully. “Talk about a travesty! I still can't fathom why Frank Warren gave him a parole—even a conditional one!”  
“You are aware that Mr. Heyes was subjected to the most brutal forms of punishment—even torture while in the custody of the territorial prison, are you not?”  
“Oh, I'd heard rumours!” Parsons waved it off. “I've known George Mitchell all his life, I'm sure any punishment he delved out would have been fair and well warranted.”  
“Then why was Mr. Mitchell removed from that office?” Cage asked candidly.  
“Because some soft-hearted mamby pamby's were putting the pressure on, that's why!” Parsons was starting to bristle, maybe this large detective wasn't a cohort after all. “Mitchell could be a bit of a hard case sometimes, but that's what we need in that prison—goodness knows where it's going to go with that Reece fella running the joint! Probably be giving them all hot showers and fleece pillows before too long!”  
“Still, I have done some research into Mr. Heyes' case and I must say that I agree with the ruling on this,” Cage informed the judge. “His treatment while in the prison was questionable to say the least and so brutal that it ultimately drove him to attempt suicide. Hardly a shining moment for the Auburn System when it leaves the inmates feeling so hopeless that death appears preferable.”  
“Not my problem Mr. Attwater,” Parsons pointed out with a firm jaw. “Once Mr. Heyes was sentenced and incarcerated his treatment was no longer in my jurisdiction.”  
“Which brings us to the main reason for my visit,” Cage informed the Judge. “There is some—question concerning the length of sentence that was handed down to Mr. Heyes. Many felt that it was 'extreme' to say the least. Which is I'm sure, one of the reasons Governor Warren saw fit to release him on parole.”  
“EXTREME!?” the Judge expostulated, his whiskers bristling. “I would have sentence that son of a bitch to double what I gave him if it could have been mortally possible!”  
“But why, Mr. Parsons?” Cage enquired, being somewhat taken aback by the Judge's open hostility. “The man was not up on murder charges and indeed, he and his partner had been straight for....”  
“Oh don't get me going on that!” Parsons snapped back. “Going straight! What a load of horse dung! The man was a liar—through and through! Even lied to his own friends!” Parson shook his head in disbelief. “And those same friends were still standing by him! My God! Even knowing he had lied to them, they still....”  
“Well, in reading over the transcript, I believe....”   
“NO! No, no...Mr. Attwater!” Parsons cut him off. “This is exactly why I gave that man the sentence that I did. Here was this young man standing before me who had everything going for him. He was brilliant, charismatic and in the prime of life—he could have been anything! Life was at his fingertips! But he chose to use his God given gifts to swindle, to manipulate and to outright, openly steal from the citizens of this territory! He was a con man Mr. Attwater! A professional gambler and a swindler who, as I observed at his trial; had no real intent of reformation!” Mr. Parsons sat back in his chair and shook his head again, this time in regret. “My goodness, when I think of the people who's lives were ruined due to that man's callous thievery. A more fitting punishment would have been for him to work himself into the ground until he paid all those people back! Why, myself personally know of a number of fine upstanding business men who were financially compromised because of Hannibal Heyes and his gang! He undermined the very foundations of this territory. We would have been a state years ago if not for the likes of him....”  
“Oh come now, Mr. Parsons!” Cage was incredulous. “You can't seriously blame Hannibal Heyes as being solely responsible for holding back the progress of the territory! There are far too many other factors involved and he was just one man....!”  
“One man who caused a great deal of damage, Mr. Attwater!” Parsons stuck to his guns. “As I stated; I know of a number of honest upstanding business men who faced ruin because of Hannibal Heyes so don't try to tell me that I gave him too hard a sentence....”  
“That sounds to me that you might have had some personal vendetta against Mr. Heyes,” Cage pointed out. “If that is the case then it should be declared a mistrial and Mr. Heyes be awarded a full pardon....!”  
“MISTRIAL!? Don't insult me Mr. Attwater!” Parsons was in an indignant fury. “I never allow my personal feelings to interfere with my professional opinion. I would have handed down the exact same sentence to Hannibal Heyes no matter who his victims were! He had no respect for my court and no remorse over his behaviour!  
“On top of that, If Mr. Heyes' attitude continued in that vein even after he arrived at the prison then it does not surprise me that George Mitchell was so hard on him! Mr. Heyes was incorrigible! An outlaw through and through and in every aspect! Goodness knows what larceny that man is getting up to now that he is on the loose again!”  
“There are law officials keeping a close eye on him, Mr. Parsons,” Cage assured him. “I don't think you need to worry about him blowing up any safe's. Well—illegally that is.” Parsons furrowed his brow at that last comment, but Cage continued on before the Judge could question it. “So there was no agreement then between yourself and Mr. Mitchell to—shall we say; exact some form of revenge against Mr. Heyes for his previous wrong doings?”  
Mr. Parsons was beginning to turn purple as his eyes bulged from his head in outrageous indignation. Cage smiled inwardly; he loved pushing these high officials right to the point of exploding. For one thing, it was only when they reached this point that Cage felt confident that he would actually be hearing the truth from them.  
“Are you daring to suggest that I am a corrupt official of the courts, Mr. Attwater?” Parsons was seething. “I'll have you know that I have never abused my position as a judge of this or any other territory! For you to even suggest that I would be in some sort of collaboration with George Mitchell simply because our acquaintanceship goes back some years, is absolutely ludicrous—and INSULTING! Mr. Heyes received a sentence based on his own arrogance and self-righteous attitude!How dare you make such an accusation!”  
“Indeed, Mr. Parsons,” Cage smiled winningly. “I perceive that I have made a misjudgement. But we must check out all angles—I'm sure you understand....”  
“No I don't understand!” Parsons yelled at him. “What do you mean by coming in here and accusing me of such a thing!?”  
“I do apologize,” Cage assured him. “It would appear that someone is indeed seeking to exact revenge upon Mr. Heyes or Mr. Curry, or perhaps both. It seemed to start with Mr. Heyes while he was incarcerated in the prison since the treatment he received there was questionable to say the least. It came to light that Mr. Mitchell might have been the instigator behind much of the abuse, even to the point of attempting to frame Mr. Heyes for the murder of the prison physician.  
“Unfortunately we have not been able to come up with a motive for these attacks or for the ones aimed at Mr. Curry so when it came to light that you and Mr. Mitchell knew one another and indeed, grew up in the same town, well; we deemed it worthy of some attention.”  
“We?” Parsons snarled. “Do you mean to tell me that you are actually working with those two outlaws!? You?--a Pinkerton man!? Working with outlaws!?”  
“Ex-outlaws, Mr. Parsons,” Cage corrected him.  
Oh, here came the colour purple again. “This is incorrigible! Just how low will you private detectives go to dig up dirt on people!?”  
“Oh believe me—we have hardly begun to dig,” Cage responded with another smile. “Ah—might I ask after those businessmen you mentioned; the ones who were financially compromised....”  
“NO!” Parsons had had enough. “I suggest you leave—NOW! I have a case to prepare for this afternoon and I have a lunch date—that's if I can still eat lunch! DAMMIT! Good day, Mr. Attwater! Mr. Jackson will show you out!”

Out on the front steps of the courthouse, Micajah Attwater stood and smiled upon reflection. He had visited two government officials and had been thrown out of both offices. 'Nope' he thought with much satisfaction; he hadn't lost his touch!  
Cage buttoned up his coat against the chilly gusts of wind that always seemed to accompany a visit to Wyoming. Kind of made him wonder why anyone would chose to live in such a bleak and sometimes harsh territory. But then Cage was a city dweller and never really could get into the heads of people who headed for the great outdoors and the wide open spaces. Seemed kind of a hard way to live your life when you didn't really need to.  
He was continuing to muse upon this subject when his eye caught the sign of the sheriff's office that was located right next door to the court house. He decided to make a quick right and drop by for a visit.  
Stepping inside the office, he immediately unbuttoned his coat again as the warmth from the stove with the perpetual coffee pot upon it was a bit overwhelming compared to the chill of the outdoors. Nobody was up front in the main office, but Cage knew that someone would have to be around, if not the sheriff himself then one of the deputies so he was willing to wait a few minutes.   
Sure enough he heard voices coming from the cell block area and then the heavy wooden door leading to it opened and the sheriff himself entered the office, carrying an empty tray.  
“Oh.” Turner was taken a little by surprise, but he recovered quickly and smiled at his visitor. “Sorry, didn't know anyone was here. Just giving our one and only guest his lunch. What can I do for you?”  
“Sheriff Turner, hello,” Cage greeted him and the two men shook hands. “I'm Micajah Attwater, with Pinkerton's and I was wondering if you had a few minutes to answer some questions.”  
Turner furrowed his brow, not sure if he liked where this was going. Even honest to goodness lawmen tended to get nervous when a Pinkerton showed up. “Questions about what?”  
“Nothing too damning Sheriff,” Cage assured him. “Just your take on the Hannibal Heyes trial that's all. I know it's a while back now but if there is anything you can recall about it that you might have some opinions about.”  
“Oh, well yeah. I suppose that's alright.” Turner put the tray back on the other desk and hung the keys to the cell block on it's proper hook. “My deputy will be here in a few minutes to relieve me and then I was going to go have some lunch. You're welcome to join me if you like.”  
“Thank you.” Cage was genuinely pleased. He was starting to get hungry. “That would be fine.”

Half an hour later found the two gentlemen over in the same cafe that had been so often frequented by those two notorious prisoners, Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry while they had each awaited their respective trial dates. Betsy, the young waitress/co-owner was quick to serve them with the standard cups of coffee and a smile. She knew Sheriff Turner of course, but the rather large blond man with him was a stranger, but always ready to appreciate a handsome fella, she gave him a warm welcome. But oh my! What lovely blue eyes he had!  
“Good afternoon fellas,” she greeted them with a twinkle in her own eye. “What can I get for you today, Sheriff?”  
“What's the lunch special Betsy?” Turner asked her.  
“It's the roast beef sandwich with my beef barley soup,” she announced. “Lots of vegetables and as much as you want. And then coffee, of course.”  
“Sounds good to me.”  
Betsy looked over at the stranger.  
“That sounds pretty good to me too ma'am,” Cage agreed. “It's a good day for hot soup.”  
“Yes it is,” Betsy agreed, and headed off to the kitchen to get the orders.  
“So...” Turner appraised the young man sitting across from him. “Hannibal Heyes' trial, huh? That does go a ways back now. What can I tell you that isn't already on record?”  
“Just your impressions,” Cage responded. “What you thought about the proceedings and of course the outcome. Did you have any feelings that maybe something was not quite above board?”  
Turner sighed reflectively as he thought back to over five years ago. “Well, it was an unusual case, simply by the fact of who the defendant was. Security was tighter than usual—everyone was on edge. Especially after Heyes' attempt to escape.” Turner smiled. “That man was not an easy keeper. I must admit I have wondered occasionally how he was making out. He didn't seem the type who would settle into prison life all that easily.”  
“No,” Cage agreed. “He did have a hard time of it.”  
“I'm not surprised,” Turner informed him. “I heard that he's out now. On a conditional parole.”  
“Yes, that's right.”  
“How's that going for him?” Turner asked with a hint of scepticism. “As I say; he was not an easy man to deal with—was always bucking authority, didn't like to follow rules that weren't of his making. Seems to me that a conditional parole might be hard for him to abide.”  
“Yeah, that's for sure,” Cage mumbled with just a hint of resentment. “Still, I think prison knocked a little bit of sense into him because compared to what he had in there this parole is pretty lenient. And he's got friends who aren't going let him go astray too easily.”  
“That's good.” Turner nodded. “I don't like to see people end up in prison for the rest of their lives. Especially a man so young and with so much to offer, if he can just get things turned around. I hope he can do that for himself.”  
“Hmm.” Cage nodded then turned the conversation back to his intent. “What did you think of the sentence he received? Did you think it was fair?”  
Just then Betsy showed up with a tray full of their lunch and the conversation took a break.  
“Here you are gentlemen,” Betsy offered as she placed the hearty looking sandwiches and steaming bowls of soup down in front of them. “I hope you enjoy. And don't forget, the soup is all you can eat!”  
“Thank you Betsy. Looks good.” Turner smiled at her while appreciatively eyeing his lunch.  
“Thank you ma'am.”  
“Just give me a wave if you want anything else.” She smiled at her two patrons and then went on about her own business with her other customers.  
Cage got them back onto the subject in hand while they tucked in to lunch. “So, did you think the sentence was fair?”  
Turner hesitated a moment, considering his answer. “Well....it was a hard sentence I know. But I also know that Judge Parsons doesn't put up with disrespect in his courtroom. And Heyes was very disrespectful. Still, I didn't expect the Judge to give him life.”  
“So you think it was a harder sentence than the Judge would normally have given under those circumstances?”  
Turner took a bite of sandwich mainly to give himself some time to consider the question. Cage did the same, giving the sheriff time to gather his thoughts.  
“Well,” Turner finally answered. “at the time, yeah I thought it was unusually harsh, but as I thought more about it, it kinda made sense. Judge Parsons is a fair judge and an honest judge—I'd stake my career on that. But he can be a hard judge too. There is no gray area for Mr. Parsons; you're either a law abiding citizen or you're an outlaw. He wants to see this territory grow—as we all do—but he seems to have made it his own personal goal to rid the territory of the numerous outlaws who have roamed and stolen freely over the years.  
“I think Marshal Morrison was quite a favourite with Mr. Parsons as they are both of the same mind when it comes to dealing with the outlaw problem. It's a good thing the man who shot Morrison up is dead himself, cause if he was ever to be brought before Judge Parsons, well—I doubt he'd live much beyond the next day.”  
“So you'd say that Judge Parsons and Marshall Morrison are friends?”  
“Well.....I don't know if I'd go that far,” Turner speculated. “Let's just say they share a common goal and therefore they respect one another but live in two very different worlds.”  
“Hmm.” Cage nodded. “So you don't think that there was anything below board at Heyes' trial. That Judge Parsons didn't have some kind of personal vendetta against Heyes?”  
“No, I never got that impression,” Turner assured the detective. “Like I said, Judge Parsons tends to be hard on all outlaws who come before him and Heyes' own attitude just made things go harder for him.”  
“Were you aware that Judge Parsons and Mr. Mitchell were friends?”  
“Who's Mr. Mitchell?” Turner enquired.  
“The warden out at the prison during the time of Heyes' incarceration.”  
“Oh.” Turner reflected. Then... “No, I wasn't aware of that. Does it matter?”  
“That's what we're trying to ascertain here Sheriff,” Cage emphasized. “Judge Parsons gives Heyes an extremely hard sentence, Warden Mitchell supports and even encourages harsher than usual punishments upon the inmate while incarcerated at the prison. Then we discover that Parsons and Mitchell are childhood friends. Any of these things by themselves would not arouse suspicion, but put them together and we wonder if there is a conspiracy here.”  
“A conspiracy?” Turner was sceptical. “Why? What reason would either of them have?”  
Cage sighed, trying not to show his frustration. “I know. We haven't been able to find any real motive for either of them to want to harm Heyes or Curry.”  
“Then why are we here talking about it?” Turner was getting frustrated himself. This was going nowhere.  
“Because things did happen at that prison, Sheriff Turner!” Cage told him. “Punishments that were unwarranted! Abuses of authority! Even false accusations of murder. And it doesn't end with that. Mr. Curry's fiance has also been threatened on more than one occasion. The leads that we have been following led us straight to the former senior guard at the prison and then from him to Warden Mitchell. Then we discover a link between Mitchell and Judge Parsons who, coincidentally was the same judge who gave Heyes an excessively harsh sentence. So I'm sure you can see why that would encourage us to look at the judge a little bit closer.”  
“Yes, alright,” Turned conceded the point. “But as I said. Judge Parsons has always lived up to the 'honourable' status of his title. I don't care what the reasons are behind your suspicions, I don't believe that Judge Parsons would degrade himself to the point of being involved in such a conspiracy. It just goes so totally against the nature of the man himself.”  
“Even if personal friends of his have suffered financial loses due to the illegal activities of Heyes and Curry?” Cage pushed.  
Turner nodded. “Even if,” he answered, pointedly.  
Cage sighed with acceptance. “Alright. I'll go with that for now. What about Marshal Morrison?”  
“More soup, gentlemen?” Betsy interrupted them.  
“OH! Yes,” Turner was quick to agree. “It's very good soup Betsy. But then I don't know of anyone else in town who can make soup the way you do.”  
Betsy smiled at the compliment. “Why, thank you Sheriff. It does seem to be popular. How about you Mr.....?”  
“Attwater, ma'am,” Cage introduced himself, quickly standing up and taking her hand. “And yes, I would also appreciate some more. And some of that fresh baked bread I can smell all the way out here. You sure know how to get a man's attention!”  
Betsy peered up at him, marvelling at his excessive height. “Why thank you!” she flirted playfully, knowing that he was referring to the enticing aroma of the bread and not her own comely features, but she pretended to take it both ways.  
“Oh!” Cage was suddenly embarrassed, knowing how his comment had sounded. “No, I...”  
Betsy laughed and reached up to pat a placating hand on his very broad and manly chest. “That's alright, Mr. Attwater. I was just teasing you. I'll get you some more soup AND the freshly baked bread. And more coffee!” And off she went to tend to that task.  
Cage sat back down again, feeling a little off center but still appreciating the very fine figure as it walked away.  
“Don't worry about Betsy,” Turner assured him. “She's harmless. Sweet little thing...I don't know why she hasn't found herself a husband yet. Plenty enough have tried. Oh well, anyway—Morrison. What about him?”  
Cage was drawn back to the topic at hand. “Oh! Ah, how—mobile is he?”  
“Mobile?” Turner reiterated then shrugged. “Better than a year ago, but he'll never be what he was.”  
Cage nodded. “Is he angry about that?”  
“I suppose, to some degree. Wouldn't you be?”  
“They say he killed the man who did it to him,” Cage commented. “Shouldn't that be enough?”  
Turner leaned back in his chair and sent Cage a suspicious look just as Betsy returned with fresh soup and warm steaming bread.  
“Here you are gentlemen. Enjoy.” She smiled at each man in turn, but noting the slightly stressed atmosphere between them she turned the smile towards herself and made a discreet withdrawal.  
“I don't know, Mr. Attwater,” Turner stated somewhat irritably. “Walking around with a bullet in your lung might cause you to hold a grudge. Even if the man who did it to you is dead.”  
“Hmm.” Cage nodded agreement as he took a piece of bread and slapped some butter onto it. “So, unable to exert revenge upon the guilty party, then perhaps the next best thing? Especially when insult is added to injury. Heyes and Curry were friends of Wheat Carlson; they rode together.”  
“Common knowledge Mr. Attwater,” Turner stated. “What is your point?”  
“Morrison put in a lot of time and energy organizing the operation that ultimately ended in the capture of Heyes and Curry,” Cage re-capped. “Not only their capture, but something that no other lawman or bounty hunter had been able to accomplish before him; he got them to trial. Then after all that work and time and energy, Jed Curry is awarded his amnesty! Other than the time he spent in various jailhouses awaiting trial, he doesn't spend a day in prison! Add to that the fact that Heyes, who originally was put away for life, ends up receiving a parole after only serving four and a half years and is now out and walking about as a relatively free man. That must be sticking in Morrison's craw.”  
“Maybe,” Turner sort of agreed. “Though he never mentioned anything to me about it.”  
“No, well he wouldn't would he?” Cage pointed out. “If he has been mulling over all of this with the intention of 'taking the law into his own hands', then he wouldn't be too likely to be spreading his discontent around.”  
“That's a serious accusation to be making against a respected law officer,” Turner informed him as he helped himself to more bread. “It seems to me that you are fishing, Mr. Attwater—and not too successfully, at that.”  
“Well, one doesn't catch the big fish unless they are willing to head into deep waters,” Cage prophisized.  
Turner dunked his bread into the soup trying to decide whether to be irritated or angry or both at this private detective questioning the ethics of a respected legal official. Finally he decided to take the high road and let it go.  
“Then I suggest you go fish where you are most likely to find them,” he commented to his lunch companion. “Go talk to him himself.”  
“Yes, I intend to,” Cage informed him. “I was just getting a feel for what you think of him—having never met the man. Unfortunately I have reason to believe that Marshal Morrison will not be at home, still it's worth the trip to find out.”  
“Good. Betsy! More coffee when you have a moment!”  
“Coming right up Sheriff!”

Abigail opened the door to the church, looking around at the timber-built building. The smell of the pine resin and linseed oil hanging in the air told her it was fairly new. She walked down the aisle calling out tentatively. “Is there anyone here?”  
A sharp-faced woman popped her nose around the door, her pinched face pulled tight by the bun of ashen pleats sitting at the nape of her neck. “Can I help you?”  
“Hi, I’m Abigail Brown. My husband and I have just moved to this town and this church was recommended to us. I thought I’d come along and have a look.”  
The woman’s face split into a smile. “New members are always welcome. I’m Mrs. Wutherspoon; my husband is the pastor here. The place is new; it was only built at the end of last year, so everything is just as we’d want it.” She cast a hand around. “As you can see it’s a good sized space for worship. We also have a small kitchen and general area out to the left here.” She led Abigail through the door she had appeared from. It had a sink furnished with its own pump and a very small range, capable of taking about two or three pans.   
“Very well-appointed, I must say,” Abigail turned impressed eyes on the matron. “You seem to have thought of everything. At home we had to bring hot food to church events in baskets of straw. You can cook and keep a few things warm here.”  
Mrs. Wutherspoon beamed proudly, opening a cupboard. “Ah, yes, we even have crockery for hot beverages for meetings. The ladies welfare committee is meeting in about twenty minutes, we like to do whatever we can for the deserving poor. Would you like to stay and meet them?”  
Abigail’s eyes widened enthusiastically, biting back the question as to what the church considered the undeserving poor. “That would be marvellous. I do think one has to meet the ladies to assess if this is the right congregation. Women are the heart of the church.”  
Mrs. Wutherspoon nodded vigorously. “I couldn’t agree more. Men left to themselves can quickly degenerate. They do need the gentle guiding hand of a softer sex,” the matron paused. “What denomination are you?”  
“At home I was free kirk, but I don’t expect to find that anywhere without a large Scottish population.”  
“We have five or six Scottish people who worship here, Mrs. Albertson is the only woman; the rest are men.” Mrs. Wutherspoon dropped her voice conspiratorially, “she is VERY Scottish. Have you heard the language? Pre-Christian I hear. You’d have thought they’d have been happy to let that go. Two of the men speak it as well, the rest are more cultivated, like yourself”  
Abigail couldn’t resist a grin. “Really? I speak Gaelic, Mrs. Wutherspoon. How lovely! This must be good match for me if there are other Gaels.”  
“Well, I can’t promise well be as plain and stripped down as the free church, but there are no Roman practices here, I can assure you. Mrs. Albertson has told me all about your church.”   
Both women’s attention were drawn to the main door opening, casting caustic winter sunshine over the floorboards. “Talk of the devil!” Mrs. Wutherspoon announced without a trace of irony, “Mrs. Albertson, this is Mrs. Brown, who is thinking of joining our little church. She is from your part of the world.”   
Abigail launched into a conversation with her countrywoman, smiling not just at the chance to use her mother tongue, but at the matron’s disapproval of anything pre-Christian; which Abigail did not hesitate to share with Mrs. Albertson. The two women chatted and laughed, while the pastor’s wife wandered off, shaking her head in dismay at what she considered to be the aboriginal babble being spoken in the house of god. “I’ll put some coffee on. The other ladies will be here soon.”  
“Mrs. Stanton? I’m Abigail Brown. I do believe your husband is giving mine a trial at the newspaper office. It’s lovely to meet you.”   
Brown defined Julia Stanton; from her pale-brown, sausage-like ringlets, to the sepia toned clothes. Even her beige face was scattered with a cinnamon-coloured freckles. She blinked hazel eyes under a set of substantial eyebrows. “Mrs. Brown? Oh, yes, Ed did mention your husband. He’s there today, I believe?”  
“Yes,” Abigail smiled warmly. “Chester’s never done any printing before; I’ll have no hard feelings if it doesn’t work out. I have every confidence he’ll find something soon, he’s a very able man. So, how active are the women’s groups in this church? Do you have any concentrating on education? I used to be a schoolteacher.”  
Julia gave Abigail a sympathetic smile. “What a shame you’re married. The town would never consider employing a married woman, but we’re just desperate for a teacher.”  
“Really? Perhaps I can help out until you find one, on a purely charitable basis to help the town? I don’t believe in married women working either, but we all have to contribute to society regardless of our marital status, don’t we? I don’t have a home to keep at the moment, so time is resting rather heavily on my hands.”  
Julia’s eyes widened. “Oh, I must tell the mayor! Between you and me, I do believe he will bite your hand off for the help. We have various women working through a roster,” she raised a cynical eyebrow. “With a varying degree of success; some of the ladies can barely pronounce words of more than two syllables, and as a mother I have grave concerns about what they are learning. Some of them do not attend church at all, but as they are literate he allows them to participate, but what more can you expect from a Frenchman?”   
Abigail’s smile widened, children were an unwitting fund of repeated titbits and gossip. This was almost too good to be true. “Shall I see him? How can I find him?”  
“Mr. Raboteau is the undertaker; you’ll find his office on the main street.”  
“Mrs. Stanton, it has been wonderful meeting you, and the other ladies. I’ll go and see him now, shall I?” 

Heyes picked up the tiny metal blocks of type, examining them closely. Yes... this was a ‘b’; or was it a ‘d?’  
“Yeah, look at each one. You’ll soon get to be able to read them like normal words and sentences, despite them being mirror images. You just need to get your eye trained. Some firms have steam driven presses,” Ed Stanton shrugged ruefully. “I can’t afford one of those, so we’re down to elbow grease. The metal type goes into the frame to make the forme. These formes then go into the coffin, and these are then put together to make the stereotype. That stereotype can then be inked and can be put in the press so the same page can be printed over and over again. Some folks also call the plate a cliché, so if you hear both terms, they mean the same thing.”  
Heyes smiled uncertainly, looking at the myriad of metal bits. “You make it sound really easy.”  
“It is easy, once you get the basics. We’ll do one together and then you can do one on your own.” He handed Heyes a form and a notebook. “These large ones are for the headlines. They snap in, like this...”

Ed Stanton folded his arms and sat back with a smile. “I’ve gotta give it to you, Chester. You learn fast. You’ve set a whole page on your first day, and corrected my grammar.”  
Heyes gave a self-depreciating shrug. “I hope you didn’t mind that, I just thought if it’s going to print, it’d better be right.”  
Ed shook his head. “Not at all; I aim for this to be one of the most professional outfits in the state. I’m ambitious and I appreciate a fresh pair of eyes on the page.”  
“You set up five pages in the time I set up one,” Heyes protested, modestly.  
“Yeah, but for your first time, that was great,” Ed’s smile stretched into a grin. “And only a few sentences were upside down. Nope, that’s a good start. You got a job if you want it.”  
Heyes face dimpled with delight. “I sure do. I never thought of getting into the newspaper game, but it sounds real interesting. Is there any chance I can go and get stories too?”  
“Hey! One step at a time, Chester. Let’s get the printing side, and manning the desk, under your belt before you turn into a cub reporter, huh? But you sure are keen - and I like that. ” Ed chuckled. “I don’t know about you but, I feel like we’ve both got something to celebrate. Fancy a drink?”  
Heyes nodded. “Sure do, I can’t stay long though; the wife’ll have been kicking her heels at the hotel all day and she’ll be bored. The sooner I get us a little house the better, but now I’ve got a job, we can start looking.”  
“Yeah, they need something to keep them busy, bless ‘em. Women just aren’t too good at filling their time until they have something to look after. I’ll ask around and see if anybody knows of anything. The hotel must be eating up your cash.”  
Heyes stood on the sidewalk and watched Ed lock up the office before falling in beside him as they strolled towards the saloon. “It all seems to be coming together; the job, maybe a nice little house.” Heyes paused. “Which bank do you recommend? We need to put our nest egg somewhere safe.”  
“The Mercantile Union,” Ed said, without hesitation. “I’ve used it all my life, all the family use it. It’s on Mitchell Street.”   
“Mitchell Street?” Heyes queried. “I guess that’s named after someone?”  
“Yeah, Thomas Mitchell, he founded a trading post which grew into a town, but became the town’s first mayor. He also fought bravely in the war along with his sons and nephews. They’re quite a family around here.” He smiled proudly. “We’re related to them, on my wife’s side.”  
Heyes pursed his lips. “So how come it’s called Jacksonville, if it was founded by a Mitchell?”  
“Two neighbouring towns joined together. They got the name because they were the biggest, and the railway station went to them. Mitchellston is just a suburb now, but Julia’s still real proud of the connection.”   
“I don’t blame her,” Heyes laughed. “The only think I’ve had named after me was a dog – and they never could house train the thing.”

The stagecoach ride over to Murreyville was anything but, well—pleasant. It was cold and a little crowded, especially when you're the size of one and a half regular humans. Why so many people would be interested in stage travel at this time of the year was beyond Cage. Why couldn't these people just stay home?! And WHY?—for goodness sake would you bring an infant along?  
When the coach finally arrived at its destination no one was more relieved to disembark than the Pinkerton man. As usual he made a bee line for the hotel and booked himself a room for the night, got settled into it and then headed over to the cafe for a bite of lunch. Hopefully they would have the stove on over there so that he could also warm up.   
“What'll ya' have?” asked the ever present waitress.  
Cage looked up at an older woman with a hard face and the attitude to match—quite the contrary to the pert little Betsy over in Cheyenne, and Cage didn't feel inclined at all to give her a smile or an introduction.  
“Beef stew if you have it,” he ordered bluntly. “With some bread and coffee.”  
“Fine.”  
Then she was gone and Cage rolled his eyes. Good thing he wasn't planning on staying for long in this town 'couse what he had seen of it's inhabitants so far didn't encourage further acquaintance. When the waitress returned with his cup of coffee he did however venture a question.  
“Is the marshal in town today?”  
“I donno,” came back the stoic response.  
“Okay,” Cage knew he wasn't going to get much out of this one. “Where might I find the town sheriff then?”  
“I would assume at the town sheriff's office.”  
“And where might that be?”  
She gave a derogatory snort. “Well if you didn't see it when you came outa the hotel then your mother gave birth to a one-eyed son!”  
Cage's jaw tightened in irritation, suddenly he wasn't feeling all that hungry. “Well I didn't see it, but thank you for informing me as to its location.”  
She snorted again. “Right.”  
Then she was gone again and Cage watched her leave with a certain amount of appreciation. But not the same appreciation he felt in watching Betsy leave, but just simply the fact that she was leaving. He sighed and then looking around, he spotted the town's paper over on another table and did a quick grab for it. At least it was something to do until his lunch arrived.  
Cage discovered the same thing that Harry had; one small town paper is pretty much the same as another. People were people and the things they tended to get up to were usually all along the same line. The only thing he did find different in this paper was the number of times their marshal was mentioned. It seemed that Tom Morrison was quite the popular official and according to this paper's reporter; apparently could do no wrong.  
Marshal Morrison was a hero who had been brutally and tragically struck down in the line of duty by that low down dirty outlaw, Wheat Carlson! The only saving grace being that Morrison had exacted his revenge and struck that dastardly coward down and pounded him to smithereens into the dirt of the Wyoming landscape! Cage snorted with amusement at the drivel that the common folk seemed so intent on believing and was caught muttering something about imbeciles when the waitress returned with his lunch.  
She frowned at him and clattered the dishes down in front of him a little bit louder than was necessary and then returned to her duties in the kitchen without so much as a smile, or an 'enjoy your lunch'. Cage sighed with acceptance of the cold shoulder and was determined to take what he could from his meal and then go in search of the marshal.   
After a second cup of coffee while he finished browsing through the paper, Cage was finally ready to brave the chilly day once again and make his way back towards the hotel. Once he got to that general vicinity he began to look around at the surrounding buildings and couldn't see one that looked remotely like a sheriff's office. Finally he stopped a gentlemen who was walking passed him and made the enquiry.  
“Can you tell me where the sheriff's office is?”  
“Yeah sure,” came the hoped for response. “Just walk down this way another block and turn right, It'll be just around the corner there.”  
“Thank you.”  
Cage carried on muttering certain obscenities towards the completely unhelpful waitress. How could being situated around the corner from the hotel suggest that one would see it from that structure!? He shook his head in disbelief; geesh, some people!  
He walked quickly along the boardwalk, rubbing his hands together and blowing into them to warm the fingers. It really was getting cold again and he sent an anxious glance up into the heavy gray skies, hoping that the snow would hold off until he had finished his business. Coming around the corner he did then indeed spot the required building, the sign on the front announcing it's official function for all to see. SHERIFF'S OFFICE. MARSHAL TOM MORRISON. SHERIFF MIKE SCHOMACHER. Hmm, well—somebody ought to be at home.  
He stopped inside the building, knocking the snow off his boots and then quickly shutting the door in order to keep the heat in and the cold out. Once again he found the front office empty and was about to call out when a quiet, rather unassuming voice came up from the back room.  
“Be right there,” it informed him. “Help yourself to a coffee if ya' want!”  
“Thank you! I'm fine.”  
“Suit yourself,” said the voice, obviously coming closer.  
Then Cage got hit with one of the more intense shocks of his life. He suddenly found himself eye to eye with a man who could meet him on level ground! Actually, though Cage hated to admit it since it threw his well balanced world into a spinning shambles; this man standing before him might actually, well maybe just a little bit—be a tad—but certainly not too much—bigger than Cage himself!   
The two men stood eye to eye and nose to nose and simply stared at each other for the space of a couple of heartbeats. They both obviously needed time to recover from the shock and quickly gather together their own personal versions of self-image before being able to move on into casual conversation.  
Finally the spell was broken and Cage extended a hand for shaking. It was gathered in by an equally impressive paw and each man tested the grit of the other in the guise of a greeting.  
“Ahh, Sheriff Schomacher, I presume?” Cage finally managed to enquire.  
“Yes,” came the quiet, unassuming response. “How can I help you?”  
“My name is Micajah Attwater,” Cage informed him. “I'm a detective with Pinkerton's.”  
“Oh,” Mike nodded. “Well, what's a Pinkerton's doing in these parts? Usually the marshal handles anything out of the ordinary that comes up.”  
“Actually it's the marshal who I was hoping to have a word with,” Cage responded. “Is he available?”  
“Nope.”  
Cage waited, hoping that more would be forthcoming. It wasn't.  
“Well...will he be back soon?”  
“Nope. Kinda doubt it.”  
“Do you know where he went?”  
“Not really.”  
Cage sighed; this was getting frustrating. “Sheriff, please—it's important that I speak with Marshal Morrison. Are you sure you have no idea where he went or when he will be returning?”  
“Tom tends to come and go as he likes around here Mr. Attwater,” Mike informed him. “He did say something about meeting up with a friend, somewhere back east—but not too far back. He didn't seem to know when he would be returning.”  
“Oh, I see,” Cage commented. “You wouldn't happen to know this friend's name would you?”  
“Nope.”  
Cage sighed in frustration again. He had come to realize that the rather large sheriff wasn't being deliberately uninformative—he was simply a man of few words. Cage decided that he was going to have to try and dig a few more words out of him that's all.  
“Actually I think I will have a cup of coffee it that's alright,” Cage asked him. “That wind out there is pretty biting.”   
“Sure is,” Mike agreed. “Help yourself.”  
Once Cage had poured his coffee, Mike sat down at the desk and offered a chair to his guest. The two men sat and assessed one another again.  
“Were you involved with the Heyes and Curry cases at all?” Cage suddenly enquired.  
Mike's hand instantly went up to his mouth and messaged his gum line through his cheek. Cage thought that a rather odd gesture.  
“Oh yeah,” Mike told him. “Got to know Heyes real well.”  
“You did?” Cage was slightly encouraged. “How did you get on? I've heard he was not an easy man to deal with.”  
“Aww, he was alright,” Mike told him. “Just had to know how ta' handle 'em.”  
“Oh,” Cage nodded. “So. The two of you got on okay then?”  
“Yeah. On the most part. Except for a minor disagreement when we parted company.” And the hand went up to the cheek again. “But, no—on the most part I got on with Heyes alright.”  
“Oh. Good.” Cage took a sip of coffee. “How about the marshal? Did he get along with them alright as well?”  
Mike hesitated with that question. “Well, not so good,” he finally admitted. “But Tom was in charge of them two. He had accepted the job of capturing them and bringing them to trial—something nobody else had been able to manage. He wasn't gonna put up with any nonsense from them, so I guess they probably thought that he treated them pretty hard. But he got the job done—he got 'em to trial.”  
“Yes he certainly did that,” Cage agreed. “And then Curry got off scott free and Heyes is out walking around on parole.”  
“Yup,” Mike nodded. A heartbeat of silence. “What's your point?”  
“Well....it wouldn't be surprising if the marshal felt a little resentful about that—considering all the work he had put in to capturing them and getting them to trial and everything. Perhaps he felt that the legal system had let him down.”  
“Never said nothin' to me about that,” Mike told him.  
“Nothing?” Cage asked again. “Even when Hannibal Heyes was released on parole after only serving four and a half years?”  
“Nope.”  
Cage was again feeling frustrated; getting information out of this man was like trying to get a smile out of that waitress. “How about you Sheriff?” Cage tried to keep the conversation going. “You committed a lot of your time and energy to that endeavour; how did you feel about Curry getting his amnesty and Heyes getting out on parole?”  
Mike shrugged. “Didn't bother me. Didn't get to know Curry too well, but like I said; Heyes was an alright kinda fella. A bit flighty but they say those genius types can be like that. Naw, I was kinda glad Heyes got out actually. The sentence he got was pretty harsh and he just didn't seem like the kinda guy who would settle into prison life all that easily.”  
“Oh. Well did the marshal resent the fact that you were happy about Heyes' release?”  
“Don't know.”  
“Did you tell him?”  
“Nope.”  
Cage sighed again in frustration and then finished off his coffee. “Alright Sheriff, thank you for your time. This conversation has been very—enlightening.” He stood up and Mike followed suit. The two men shook paws again and Cage prepared to face the cold one more time. “If you think of anything else—oh, no. Never mind. Have a good afternoon Sheriff.”  
“Sure will. Same to ya'. And if ya' see Heyes, say 'howdy' for me.”  
“Yes I will Sheriff,” Cage agreed. “Good day.”  
Cage walked back the way he had come and decided that it was time to stop in at the saloon for a beer or maybe a whiskey, yeah a whiskey would really warm the soul. That had been a very frustrating conversation. Just what was Marshal Morrison up to? Obviously the man wasn't in his top form so what would make him pull up stakes in the middle of winter and head down to Missouri? Something was up, but what? Had Morrison teamed up with Mitchell to exact their own brand of justice on Heyes and Curry? Or was Morrison working on his own? Nobody seemed to know or was willing to say what was legit.   
The judge appeared to be a dead end—but maybe not. What of his businessmen friends who'd been burned by Hannibal Heyes and the Devil's Hole Gang? Maybe they were behind all those attacks. They'd have the money to finance something like that and probably wouldn't hesitate to spend it towards a worthy cause. Maybe Mitchell is working with them behind everyone's back! It'll be interesting to get back to Missouri and find out what the other members of their little team were finding out in Jacksonville. Maybe that's where all this is going to tie together.  
Cage went into the saloon and ordered himself that whiskey. He still had one more stop to make before rejoining his companions. He didn't really know why, but he felt the need to touch base with the warden out at the prison. Maybe there's a few more things that could be beaten out of Harris before all of this was said and done.

Heyes glanced over at Harry sitting in the corner of the restaurant, tucking his red and white checked napkin into his collar with the relish of a circling vulture.  
“The Mercantile Union,” Heyes whispered to Abigail.  
She dropped her menu, smiling at him with eyes full of mischief. “We’d better get Harry to do it properly. We need the exact amount he drew out, the amount he got for his house, and anything else like a safety deposit box. The records need to be accessed officially.”  
Heyes frowned. “Why, Abi? What good does that do us?”  
“Because a man like Mitchell’s not going to walk around with his life’s savings in his pocket, he’s going to put it somewhere safe – like a bank. That’s how we catch him. We get an idea where he’s gone from the family, and check the banks in the area. If a lump sum of a similar amount is paid in during the right time frame, it’s probably a lead to his new identity. It’ll be minus some living expenses of course.”   
Heyes frowned. “It could be anywhere, even the other side of the country.”  
Abigail nodded. “That’s where detective work comes in. We try to narrow it down, and then check the banks in that area to find a match.” She arched an eyebrow. “Sometimes if we are very lucky, we can just get the information, but it is another way to track people.” She gave an enigmatic smile. “One of a few methods we use.”  
Heyes sat back. “So you check all the banks? Depending on how well he knows anyone in the new bank, he might find out and disappear again.”  
“Exactly.” Abigail nodded, “so we have to be discrete.”  
“Discrete?”  
Abigail fingered the little silver cat at her neck. Her eyes glistened with unspoken roguishness and mystery. “Yes, and you cannot assist with this. You are on parole. You cannot be caught doing anything which may be deemed illegal.”  
“You break in and check the records?”   
“Oh, Mr. Heyes,” she whispered. You make it sound so crude. I investigate; quietly, and prudently, and covertly, leaving no trace that I was ever there. Nothing is taken and everything is left just as I found it.”  
Heyes lips firmed into a line. “You break in? Harry’ll skin you alive if he finds out.”  
“Harry was never a good enough detective to be trusted with the tricky jobs, Mr. Heyes,” Abigail smiled at the approaching waitress, “and you worry unnecessarily. He’ll never find out. I’ll make sure of it.” 

 

Jed clomped up the steps to the Stamford's residence and was just knocking the snow off his boots when the front door was flung open and the ex-outlaw found himself being assaulted by a whirlwind of skirts and high laughter.  
“JED! You made it!”  
“HEY! Beth darlin'!” Jed laughed as he gathered her into his arms. “Course I made it! The trains are still runnin', don't ya' know!”  
“Oh I know,” Beth admitted as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “But I still always worry that something is going to detain you. What a lovely surprise to hear that you were heading back again so quickly!”  
“Yeah well, it got a little awkward for me to stay in Jacksonville,” Jed explained as he made his way into the front hall with Beth still hanging off his neck. “But it sure is good to see you again.” Then he took his lady into a full embrace and gave her quite the intense kiss before anyone could come by and interrupt them. Beth responded wholeheartedly.  
“Thaddeus! Close the door for goodness sakes!” came Belle's voice from the kitchen area. “Then come into the kitchen. I've had a hearty soup simmering, just waiting for your arrival.”  
Jed's eyebrows went up as he retracted from the kiss and he grinned. “Ohh! Soup! Just the day for it!”  
“Oh you!” Beth complained and then slapped him playfully on the shoulder. “Sometimes I think you would rather eat than kiss me!”  
“Get used to it darlin'!” Jed grinned and headed for the kitchen with an arm around Beth's waist, propelling her along with him. “Nothin' gets in between this man and a meal!”  
Stepping in to the warmth of that universal meeting place, Jed quickly striped off his coat and hat and hung them off the back of a chair. He then went over and gave Belle an appreciative hug.  
“Thaddeus, it's good to see you,” Belle told him and gave him a smile. “Come, sit down and I'll get you some soup and bread. Then you can tell us what's brought you back here so soon.”  
Jed nodded and took a seat with Beth sitting down beside him, but before he could begin his narrative there was a loud thumping of feet and the kitchen door flew open.  
“Uncle Jed!” came the joyous greeting from the youngest of the Jordan clan. “Will you come outside and play with me!?”  
“Ah, not right now Jay, my man,” Jed told him. “Maybe later okay?”  
“Aww! Nobody wants to play with me!”  
“Thaddeus just got in the door, Jay!” his mother admonished him. “Let him get some lunch. Besides, Anya should be done with her classes by then and I'm sure she'll play with you. You both had fun out in the snow yesterday.”  
Jay still hung his head in disappointment. “I know. I just wanted Uncle Jed to play with me.”  
“What were you doing before I got here?” Jed asked him, feeling sorry for the little man.  
“Drawing.”  
“Well why don't you bring your drawing in here and work on the table?” Jed suggested. “That way you can keep me company while I have my lunch.”  
Jay instantly brightened up. “Yeah!” And off he went to get his supplies.  
Belle sent Jed a long suffering look. “Really Thaddeus. That boy needs to learn that he can't be constantly pestering you. You are far too lenient with him.”  
“Aww, he's alright Belle,” Jed assured her with a smile. “I kinda enjoy playing with 'em.”  
“Well, alright,” Belle conceded as she placed a bowl of thick turkey soup and warm bread down in front of him. “but he'll run you ragged if you let him.”  
Jed smiled. “Hopefully I can drag lunch out long enough for him to forget about playing outside and then let Anya distract him.”  
Belle laughed as she set two more bowls down for herself and her daughter. “You'll make a fine father yet, Thaddeus!” She settled down and helped herself to some bread. “So, tell us; what brings you back so soon?”  
“Aw well,” Jed began. “someone in town would have recognized me, so I had to get out.”   
“Oh?” asked Belle. “Who was that? Not some sheriff was it?”  
“No no,” Jed assured her. “Besides, nothing a sheriff could do to me now. No, it was...” he hesitated a moment, not sure about bringing up this topic over lunch, but then decided to go ahead with it. “Beth, do you remember at my trial—that woman who, well...she witnessed the murder of her father?”  
Beth furrowed her brow and thought about it for a moment. “Yes. She seemed very upset. She actually accused you of shooting down her father in cold blood!”  
A sadness clouded Jed's eyes for a moment as he reached over and squeezed Beth's hand. “Beth, darlin'--I did shoot him down in cold blood. And I did it right in front of her—much to my ever lasting regret.”  
“I know,” Beth admitted in a small voice. “But you had good reason.”  
“No Beth,” Jed denied that sanction. “No reason would have been good enough for what I did to her. But I was young and stupid and—angry. And now it seems it might very well have come back to bite me in the butt. It seems that she and her husband are now living in Jacksonville and that she is related, either through blood or marriage to Mr. Mitchell.”  
Even Belle gave a small gasp at that information. “Really? Oh my goodness.”  
“We don't know if they are the ones who are actually behind all of this stuff, but in any case, I had to get out of town.” Jed continued to explain. “She would have recognized me and then that would have blown our whole cover story.”  
“Yes, it certainly would have!” Belle agreed. “My, but this mystery is just getting deeper and deeper all the time. Just how many people can be involved in it?”  
Jed shrugged. “I have no idea!”  
The door swung open again and a certain little boy put in an appearance, his drawing paper and crayons getting dumped unceremoniously onto the kitchen table. Then Jake toddled in behind, quite certain that he was missing out on something important. 

Later that evening, after supper was done and put away and all the resident children had gone to bed, Jed and Beth were able to sneak in a little bit of time to themselves. It happened quite innocently of course; the young couple had offered to put the children down for the night while Belle, Hester and Mayzee relaxed with tea and darning along with the usual evening gossiping and Henry settled in to read the paper. The two practising parents even took the time to read bedtime stories to the two different groups of children much to the appreciation of Anya and the two young boys. The two older girls were beyond this nightly ritual but they still played along with Beth's animated recital until sleepy little eyes had begun to droop and shoulders had snuggled into the pillow.  
Jed had finished up with the boys before Beth was done and rather than going down to join the others in the sitting room, he decided to sit down on the top step of the second floor landing in order to wait for her. Ten minutes later he heard the door to the girls' room open and close and he smiled up at his lovely lady as she gave a sigh of relief and sat down beside him.  
“Well, that's done,” she announced quietly as she snuggled up against her fiance. “Little Becky is such a character; her mind is so quick it's intimidating sometimes.”  
Jed chuckled. “She comes by it honestly. I just hope she doesn't end up having the same problems as her father does when it comes to shutting it down at night,” he contemplated. “That's something Heyes has had a hard time dealing with.”  
Beth shrugged as she considered this possibility. “She doesn't show any indication of that now,” she observed. “I mean, she very active and high spirited during the day, but when it comes time for bed, it's like a candle being blown out; she's just shuts down quite quickly.”  
“Yeah, but Heyes didn't start have problems that way until he was older; around eighteen,” Jed recalled. “It was like all of a sudden, the problems of the world became his and his brain went into over-drive trying to solve them all. I donno, maybe that will settle down once this stuff is all sorted out and he and Abi can get on with a normal life.” He laughed softly. “If anything those two do can be considered 'normal'.”  
“I hope so,” Beth agreed. “Joshua deserves some happiness—and so do you! You've both paid your dues, Jed. Whoever is causing this strife now is just sick as far as I'm concerned. Why can't they just let you get on with your lives?”  
Jed sat quietly for a moment, his thoughts far away while he held her close. “The need for revenge can be a powerful thing Beth,” he finally mused. “It's something that grows and becomes more demanding with the passage of time. Mrs. Stanton had a lot of time to brood over what happened to her father. She didn't care about what he had done to my family; she was so young at the time she would never even had considered that and as she got older the anger would have taken such a hold by then that she wouldn't be able to see beyond it. It's tragic; what happened. My childhood was destroyed because of her father and the men he rode with and then I turned around and did the same thing to her.”  
Beth leaned in even closer, wrapping her arms tighter around her man. She could feel the pain that these memories were stirring up in him and she wished she could make it all go away. She felt helpless in this situation, knowing that this went beyond her powers to heal and that all she could really do was simply to love him and support him in this. As far as Jed was concerned this was exactly what he needed from her and she gave it freely.   
He shifted his position a little bit and with his free hand, gently stroked her cheek with his finger and then turned her face towards his. They gazed into each other's eyes for a moment; blue into soft brown and then as though from some unseen signal they both leaned forward and lips coming together, they kissed, gentle and lovingly. Beth turned her body into him and her arms encircled his waist and held on tight and his left hand cupped the back of her head and the kiss became more passionate.  
Finally they separated just to be able to catch their breath and Jed continued to give her little butterfly kisses along her neck which caused her to tremble and shiver with excitement. They heard Mayzee laugh down in the sitting room, and sending a pensive glance that way, Beth pulled back and taking Jed by the hand she stood up and pulled him along with her. He smiled and willingly followed as she led him into the nearest empty bedroom. He quietly closed the door behind them as Beth went over to the nightstand and lit the lamp that was there. She only turned it up half way so the light remained muted and soft and then she quickly returned to her lover to be embraced by him again.  
Before she knew it her back was against the wall and Jed was caressing her body through her dress and his kisses were so passionate. He felt her mouth open to him and her warm tongue enticing him, inviting him to come inside and play. He leaned into her even more, feeling her teeth against his lips, feeling her breasts against his body, pressing into him as her breathing increased with her desire.  
He could feel his own body reacting to her and his hand came up and cupped her breast while his fingers played with the nipple through the restricting material. Beth moaned with her desire and her body arched away from the wall as he continued to kiss her mouth and her neck and her jaw line and then nibble on her ear. She wanted him so badly; her body was aching for him, longing for him, opening up for him......  
He pulled away. His breathing was heavy and he groaned, but he still pulled away, his hand leaving her breast and gently cupping her face again.  
“Beth, we can't.....”  
Disappointment washed over her as her body trembled with her desire.  
“But...I want you to.”   
“I know,” Jed whispered. “I want to as well, but....this isn't right. We can't. Aww Beth, darlin'--I love you so much, but we have to wait. You know that.”  
“No we don't,” Beth informed him, her eyes bright with excitement and desire. “We don't have to wait. Hester showed me how to....well, how to prevent....anything—from happening.”  
Jed tensed and pulled back from her with furrowed brow. “What do you mean; Hester showed you? Showed you what?”  
Beth squirmed a little bit, suddenly feeling his disapproval. “Well, you know. Prevent 'it' from happening. We can have 'relations' now and we don't have to worry about—consequences.”  
“Hester spoke to you about that?” Jed queried, feeling slightly defensive. “Why?”  
“Well, like she said; it's not to prevent us from having a family, but giving us the option of being able to plan it,” Beth explained, feeling a little frightened now that she had garnered her lover's disapproval. “What's wrong with that?”  
“I don't know,” Jed admitted as he stood back from her now and tried to digest this revolutionary information. “It just don't seem right somehow. It don't seem respectful.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“Well,” Jed was stumbling, having a hard time articulating what he felt. “It would be like I was just using you for sex, like some saloon gal. But Beth, you're gonna be my wife—it just don't seem proper to be....using that. I want to have children with you Beth.”  
“And I want to have children with you too,” Beth assured him. “More than anything, I want that.”  
“Well, then why would you want to use something like this?”  
“Because I want to be able to plan them,” she explained. “The one thing I learned in helping Momma with J.J. is that raising a child is very hard work. I can't imagine how Momma did it with the two of us so close together! She must have been run ragged!”  
“But look at how close you and Bridget are,” Jed continued to press his point. “You're best friends. Do you think you would have that kind of relationship with her if you were years apart?”  
“You and Hannibal are two years apart and he's your best friend,” Beth pointed out. “Two years I think I could handle, just not one right after another. I want us to have time to enjoy our children, Jed—and to enjoy one another. Not be run into the ground chasing after a whole brood, right from the very start. Can't you understand that?”  
Jed sighed. To give him credit he was trying to see her point of view, but it was difficult. “I donno Beth. It just don't seem decent for a married woman....”  
Here Beth put hands on hips and took on a knowing expression. “Oh come now Jed,” she began. “What do you think Maribelle is doing? David told them not to even try for any more children because it would be too dangerous for her! Do you think they just stopped having married relations?”  
“BETH!” Jed was incensed. “You shouldn't even be thinking about things like that! I sure never thought about it!”  
“Well you better believe that Sam thought about it!” Beth chided him and then laughed at his shocked expression. “Oh c'mon Jed,” she gently teased him. “there's nothing wrong with it.” Then she sighed again as Jed looked hurt by her reprimand. “Are you angry with me?” she asked him. “Are you disappointed?”  
Jed looked into her soft eyes, now showing worry and concern that she had pushed him away from her and he felt contrite. He smiled at her and taking her into his arms again he kissed her on the forehead and stroked her blond hair. “No,” he assured her. “I'm not mad at you, just—caught flat footed is all. I want us to be able to talk like this; to be able to discuss things. I love you Beth, I want you to be happy. Just give me some time to get used to this idea, okay?”  
Beth smiled then too and snuggled into his embrace. “Okay,” she agreed. “But you know now; we don't have to wait, if you don't want to.”  
Jed chuckled at her wording. “Oh, I see! It'll be me who doesn't want to wait, hmm?”  
Beth giggled at being brought to task. “Well...you know...!”  
“Ah huh.” Jed kissed her again, but then his expression turned serious. “Still, Beth darlin'...we have to wait.”  
He felt her body slump slightly in disappointment. “But why? We don't have to worry about....”  
“I know,” Jed assured her. “But that's not why. That first time was beautiful. It was wonderful.”  
“Yes, it was wasn't it.”  
“Yup.” Jed smiled with the memory of it. “And at first I didn't feel guilty about it at all. I figured we were both adults, we loved each other and I was gonna marry ya', so what was there to feel guilty about? Even Heyes had been pushing me to get on with it and thought it was great that we had....”  
“You told Hannibal!?” Beth stiffened a little bit with guilty embarrassment but then she relaxed and gave a knowing smile. “Of course you told Hannibal! What was I thinking?”  
“I didn't have to tell him!” Jed laughed. “He knew it the minute he saw me! Don't ask me how, but he did. And even he thought it was a good thing and that I had nothin' ta' feel guilty about.”  
“But then you did?”  
“Yup,” Jed conceded. “After awhile I did start to feel guilty about it. I donno. It was like, well Heyes and I were used to just taking whatever we wanted and I never thought about how our actions might effect anyone else. The only person I felt any kind of loyalty or obligation towards was Heyes and nobody else matter. But all of a sudden things had changed. Ya' know I wasn't really worried about you gettin' pregnant, because like I said, I want us to have children so that would have been okay.  
“What terrified me was what that would have done to your folks. I suppose I just didn't know where the line was until I had stepped over it and then the guilt hit me like a sledgehammer. After everything your folks have done for me and for Heyes. They took us in. After all the bad things we had done and the problems we brought with us, they took us in and allowed us to become part of your family. Your Pa trusted me with something precious and that was how I repaid him? I betrayed that trust Beth and the only thing that could have been worse than that would have been for him to find out about it.  
“For so long Heyes was the only family I had but all that has changed now. Not just for me but for him as well. We've both grown beyond what we had and what we were. We have a larger family now and that means other loyalties and different obligations.  
“I don't know what's going to happen between me and Heyes, and that scares me. As you pointed out yourself; I love him like a brother, but brothers can drift apart; they fall in love, get married and start their own families and sometimes that pulls them in different directions. If that happens between me and Heyes, well I suppose that's just life and people move on, but I hope it doesn't happen like that. I want us to stay close, to raise our families together but I don't know if that'll happen or not.”  
Jed paused here and took Beth's face in his hands and turned her eyes up to meet his. “But either way Beth, darlin'...you're my family now and your folks are my folks. I can't begin our lives together knowing I had betrayed that trust. That first time, well...it just happened and we can't take it back. But it's not goin' to happen again. I'm goin' to marry you Bethany Jordan and we're gonna have a parcel of young'uns! But I'm gonna do your folks proud, and we're gonna do this the right way.”  
Beth blinked as she stared up into his brilliant eyes and she felt a tear forming and then roll down her cheek. She sniffed and smiled as he wiped the tear away with a thumb. She nodded.  
“Yes,” she whispered with a quiet sob. “You're right. We can wait.”  
He smiled at her, kissed her on the forehead and pulled her into a tight hug.  
“I love you,” came out in unison. 

Abigail walked around the playground, casually observing the children milling around in squealing murmurations of excitement, desperately trying to avoid the attentions of Billy Richardson who was ‘it’. She strolled over to the corner of the school house and glanced down the side, acutely aware of the appeal dark corners held for rule breakers. Her eyes fixed on the small, freckle-faced boy who was hacking his lungs out with his red-haired, rapscallion of a sidekick shrouded in a cloud of smoke. She fought to conceal the delight tugging her mouth into a smile. She had been here nearly two weeks, and she finally had the chance to have a long conversation with the Stanton boy on his own.   
“Smoking! In my school!” Abigail bellowed. “Edward Stanton and Eugene O’Shea, get inside, right now.”   
She followed the boys into the schoolroom, assessing the pair. Eugene was the more pugnacious of the pair, with a cantankerous swagger and an aggressively thrusting chin, but his hard front did not fool Abigail who had already heard a great deal about his drunken, abusive father. The boy was clearly damaged. “Well? What have you got to say for yourselves?”  
“Póg mo thóin,” Eugene muttered under his breath.  
Abigail’s eyes widened, he’d cursed her in Irish, but this one sounded exactly the same in Scottish. “Diabhol beag!” She sucked in a breath and let loose a stream of Celtic invective which not only held the children’s attention, they were transfixed. Eugene’s normally shifty demeanour dissipated as he stood as though caught in a headwind, blinking futilely as the torrent swept over him. Abigail finished and stood glaring at him with her arms folded, tapping her toe on the floorboards.   
“Miss? You speak Gaelic, Miss?”  
“Fluently! I suspect you only know a few words. Isn’t that right, Eugene? Just the odd curse or swearword? The fun stuff.”   
Her glower told the boy that she didn’t see any real fun in his comment at all. He dropped his head. “So you know what it means, Miss?”  
“Not only did I understand every word, I have no intention of doing it, and I doubt anyone else will either. I suggest you do it yourself, if you are limber enough. Now, back to the point, why were you smoking in my school?”   
Eugene gave a surly shrug. “I just do, Miss. I’ve done it for ages.”  
“Eugene – you do not do it any more. I understand that some of the mothers covering around here are afraid of your father, so were a bit lax in disciplining you. Let me be absolutely clear. He does not frighten me, and you do not impress me. Whilst you are in my care you will obey the rules, just like everyone else; or you will face the consequences. Do you understand?”  
Eugene bristled. “I ain’t scared o’ the cane.”  
“Cane?” Abigail shook her head. “Oh, no, Eugene. You don’t get to walk out of here and boast of how tough you were in the face of pain.” A wicked smile spread over her face. “I am far more creative than that. You will wipe the blackboard, and clean out the fireplace first thing in the morning for me for one week. You will also help the little ones with their coats, clean all the slates, clean the dusters, and fetch the chalks.”  
“But them’s teacher’s pet jobs!” Eugene protested.   
“Precisely,” grinned Abigail. “I suspect you have been hit rather a lot in your young life, and it does not appear to be having a beneficial effect. I think I’ll try a different tack, but it’s a shame some of the boys may laugh at you.”  
“T’ain’t fair!”  
“Do you want me to make it two? If you do not want my full attention, Eugene, make sure you comply with school rules. You may go. I want to speak to Edward now.”  
Edward Stanton Junior watched his accomplice stalk from the room. “Are you gonna hit me, Miss?”  
“I have no aversion to using corporal punishment where I see it as being appropriate, but I believe that a child should learn from punishment, and I will always find the method which I believe will give the miscreant the biggest lesson. I’m taking you home to your parents after school, Edward.” She sat and indicated to a chair next to her. “I expect they will have a great deal more to say on the matter than I ever could.”  
Edward’s mouth fell open. “You can’t tell my ma, she’ll skin me alive.”  
“Quite; so it’ll save me the job, Edward,” Abigail patted the chair next to her. “Sit down, now I want you to tell me why you did such a thing. You are normally such a conscientious student.”  
The child dropped his backside into the seat. “They said it was great. Manly.”   
“As manly as somebody dying of phthisis? That’s how you sounded to me.”  
“Gene says it takes everyone like that at first.”   
“Eugene also said that Noah’s wife was Joan of Ark. I really would not turn to him as the font of all knowledge.” She softened her tone. “Edward, when good students begin to act out, there’s usually something else going on. Is everything alright? Are you being bullied?”  
“Bullied? No, Miss. I ain’t bein’ bullied.”  
“What then, is everything alright at home?”  
Abigail gave the boy a sympathetic smile as he hesitated, trying to form his thoughts into a sentence. “My Ma is unhappy, she lost her uncle and she loves him. She’s been shoutin’ at me a lot, she’s real easy upset.”  
“Oh, I’m so sorry. A bereavement? Your mother never said her uncle had died. She must have been very close to him.”  
Edward shook his head. “He ain’t dead, Miss. Just moved away, but she’s upset because he had to go.”  
“Had to?” Abigail knew it was time to tread very carefully. The child could not report back to his parents that his teacher had been prying. It had to look natural.   
“Men were looking for him, so he had to leave town.”  
Abigail nodded. “I can see why that would be upsetting for your poor mother. Has he gone far?”   
“Oh, no, Miss, but ma was real angry. So was pa.”  
She laid a hand on the child’s arm. “So, you’ll be able to see him if he’s not gone far? That’s not too bad is it?”  
“We can’t see him, miss. Ma says the men might be followin’ her, that’s why she’s angry. She says they’re bad men.”  
“Oh, how very sad. I can see why your mother would be upset, loving a man so much but not being able to see him.” She caught her breath. “Where has he gone?”  
“Ma says I can’t tell.”  
Abigail’s heart sank. It was time to back off. “Then you mustn’t, Edward. You’re right. Now, will you promise me you won’t smoke again, and that you will comply with the school rules?”  
Edward rattled his head vigorously up and down. “Yes, Miss. I promise.”  
She patted his arm. “As you have had such a hard time recently, I will give you one more chance. I will not tell your parents as long as you promise to behave. Will you?”  
Edward’s face lit up at the prospect of a reprieve. “Oh, yes, Miss. I will!”  
Abigail nodded. “Then go, and behave yourself. Your mother has had enough to worry about recently, and I don’t want to add to it. This will be our little secret, unless I find you misbehaving again.”  
Edward stood, hardly believing his luck. “Miss, can I tell the boys you gave me the cane?”  
Abigail stood, absently nodding. “If you like, Edward. I don’t mind; just be good, will you.”

 

Heyes lay back on the bed with his hands behind his head. “Abi, will you stop pacing? What’s wrong with you?”  
“I’m thinking...”  
Heyes arched his brows, suddenly understanding how annoying he’d probably been for the Kid over the years. “Tell me what’s bothering you, maybe I can help?”  
She frowned. “I can’t.”  
“Can’t, or won’t?” Heyes asked, pushing himself to a sitting position.   
“Can’t... won’t, oh, it’s both.” She turned, striding off towards the window again.  
Heyes stood. “It’s been a long time since I had to make you talk, I wonder I I’ve still got the knack?” Abigail turned distracted eyes on him as he came up behind her and slipped a hand around her waist. “What is it?”  
She gave a heavy sigh. “I can’t. You’ll want to get involved and it’s simply not possible. It would breach your parole.”  
“What would, Abi?”  
She simply looked off into the corner. Heyes swung her around and gave her a gentle shake. “Talk to me! What can’t you tell me?” He paused. “You’re frightening me now, Abi.”  
She smiled softly and laid a hand on his cheek. “There’s nothing for you to be scared of. I’m trying to think of a way of doing something by myself which takes two people; oh, if only Jed was still here.”  
“Whatever it is, it’s illegal, or you’d ask Harry.” He pulled her over to the bed.   
Abigail shrugged. “It could be done legally, but the Stantons' would probably find out what I was up to and warn Mitchell. It has to be covert.”  
Heyes narrowed his eyes. “What does?” Abigail bit into her lip, but remained silent. “You asked for it,” he muttered, pushing her onto the bed. He knelt on top of her with a wicked gleam in his eyes. “I know how ticklish you are, and you’re all healed now; so talk.”  
“I’m trying to protect you, Mr. Heyes. You’ll insist on doing something, and I could never live with myself if you ended up back inside because of me.”  
He grinned and shook his head. “If we’re going to get married, you’ll have to learn to obey. It’s part of the deal.” He ran his long fingers over her, chuckling as she writhed and squealed beneath him. “Nah, on second thoughts, we’ll do it this way. It’s more fun.”  
She choked back her hysterics. “Stop it! People will hear.”  
“Then talk,” he started again, this time tickling with a vengeance.   
“No! No more... fine, I’ll tell you,” she grabbed his wrists, “as long as you promise not to get involved. You just give me ideas; deal?”  
He dropped down, catching her lips in a long kiss. “I had hoped that I already gave you ideas.”  
“You’re certainly a distraction,” she wound her fingers through his hair and drew him to her, nibbling along his jaw line. “I’m worried about you, that’s all.”  
“Then tell me, Abi. Maybe I can suggest another way? I don’t want to go back inside either.”  
She hesitated, clearly thinking deeply before she finally spoke. “I need to hold up Western Union.”  
“Huh?” Heyes’ jaw dropped. “In God’s name, why?”  
“Because I need to see their records. Julia Stanton’s uncle hasn’t gone too far – her son told me. She’ll certainly have been in contact with him, but if Harry gets the records officially there’s a very good chance the Stantons will find out their contact has been investigated. She’ll find another way of warning him and he’ll go to ground. It has to be secret.”  
“So break in. You could do that standing on your head.”  
“It’s manned twenty four hours a day, Mr. Heyes. There’s always somebody there. The only way I can think of doing it is a hold-up,” she stared at him in challenge, “unless you can come up with one of your famous plans? How do we get into somewhere which is constantly manned, without them knowing we have looked at their records?”  
“I can’t help thinking about a prostitute.”  
Abigail scowled at him. “That’d better be a suggestion for our problem with Western Union.”  
He dropped a light kiss on the tip of her nose. “You must have thought of that too, Abi.”  
“People know me here, and I only have a very basic kit for disguise. I’m the schoolteacher – I can’t be seen going into the brothel.”  
“But I can, so can Harry.”  
She dropped back on the bed, her mobile face reflecting her whirling mind. “I was trying to keep you out of it, and Harry’s such a bad judge of character. We have to be careful about using prostitutes; we don’t know which one Ed Stanton favours. It’s another way we can be found out.”  
“We don’t know he uses one at all, Abi.”  
“Mr. Heyes, the average married man has sex outside of marriage twice a week,” she flicked up an eyebrow, “and you’d better not be one of them.”   
“Average!? How dare you!?” He caught her mouth with his own, probing deeply. He released her; her heart skipping a beat at the devilment dancing in his eyes again.  “I’m going to have to prove myself, aren’t I?” 

Thank goodness he was on a train again! The stagecoach ride into Murreyville had been just enough of a reminder to Cage as to how much he hated coach travel! He was just too big to fit comfortably on those seats which of course had been designed for the average physique. As long as he could get a bench seat to himself then train travel was far more preferable. Luck was with him, or perhaps simply the time of year as there weren't too many people riding the train and Cage found himself able to stretch out in a whole compartment all to himself. This was doable.   
He had sent a quick telegram to Warden Reece, informing him of the impending visit and then had made a dash for the train, getting to the station just in time to jump on board. He got settled and went over some of his notes just to keep things fresh in his mind, but the ride to Laramie was not that far so it wasn't long before he was gathering up his belongings and preparing to disembark.  
Once more he settled into the hotel and thinking that one of these days he would have to put down some roots and establish a permanent residence. Well, especially now if he was going to be taking over the role of full-time father to Jake. Yes, that would dictate some changes in his life, he would have to be at home a lot more often than he had been of late. Might even need to hire a nanny to help out as well. Oh, what was he thinking!? Of course he'd have to hire a nanny! He still had to work for goodness sakes!  
The skies finally gave up the pretence as he was driving out to the prison and white flakes were slowly beginning to drift down through the cold, bleak air. He sighed and slapped the horse's rump with the lines to encourage it to pick up the pace a little bit and the horse didn't seem to mind obliging. They arrived at the prison in record time and a good thing too because Cage's hands were well on the way to being too numb to hold the lines.  
He had never been to this prison before and it was indeed a bleak structure to gaze upon. He wasn't sure if this was just because of some of the atrocities he had heard about that had gone on behind those walls, or if it was the weather. But either way he felt a chill go through him as he approached the front doors and had to force himself to enter the building even though he knew he was simply here on business and was not going to be entering the prison proper.  
Upon entering the business area of the prison though, Cage felt the warmth creep into his extremities and instantly felt the better for it. He actually began to remove his gloves and unbutton his coat as he made his way over the the reception desk. Even though Cage would not have known the difference, there had been some changes made in this department. Officer Murrey stood up from his desk and greeted the visitor. Mr. Thompson was no where to be seen.  
“Mr. Attwater?” Murrey assumed.  
“Yes, that's right.”  
“Fine sir.” Murrey smiled at him. “The warden is expecting you. If you'll just come this way.”  
Murrey led him the short distance over to the office door, knocked upon that barrier and opened it without waiting for a response from inside.  
“Mr. Attwater, Warden.”  
Cage entered the office to find himself facing a pleasant enough looking official and instantly felt at ease with this man. Kenny smiled and standing up, came forward to shake his hand.  
“Mr. Attwater,” Kenny greeted him. “Good to meet you, please have a seat. Murrey, bring us some coffee will you? I'm sure our guest is feeling the cold.”  
“Yessir.”  
Cage striped off his coat before sitting down and then sighed with the relief of the comfortable temperatures.  
“It's certainly pleasant enough in here,” he commented. “Although I do recall Heyes stating that the prison was cold as hell frozen over during the winter months.”  
Kenny smiled again and nodded agreement. “Yes. It used to be quite uncomfortable working here in the winter—for inmates and guards alike. I've made a few changes in that direction.”  
“Oh,” Cage nodded with approval. “I'll let Heyes know.”  
“I'm actually pleased that you decided to swing by here Mr. Attwater, despite the weather,” Kenny began the discussion. “I have some information that I wanted to pass on to Heyes in their investigation, but I have no way of reaching them. I take it you will be seeing them again shortly?”  
“I expect so, yes,” Cage informed him. “They could be on the move but we agreed to leave messages and such at the Pinkerton office just so's we don't lose track of one another.” He smiled. “If Heyes is anything like Abi when she's on the scent they could be just about anywhere.”  
Kenny looked a little suspicious at this comment. “Is Heyes not being monitored?” he asked the Pinkerton's. “You do realize that is a condition of his parole; that an appointed official would know at all times where he is and what he is doing. I thought that was you. Are you telling me that you do not know where he is?”   
Cage felt a slight apprehension, as though he were a schoolboy being reprimanded by the principal for some misconduct. Fortunately it was at this point that Murrey re-entered the office carrying a tray with two cups of coffee and a jug of cream. He set the tray down on a side desk and turned to the visitor.  
“How would you like your coffee, Mr. Attwater?” he asked pleasantly.  
“Just some cream would be fine,” Cage answered distractedly, thinking he could use something stronger right now, but coffee would do.  
Murrey prepared his cup and then set it down on the side table next to his Cage's chair. He prepared the next cup the way he knew his boss liked it and set that cup down on the desk. He then made a discreet exit. Cage and Kenny looked at each other. Kenny was obviously waiting for an answer.  
“Ah, yes that's correct, Warden,” Cage assured him and then took a sip from his cup. Kenny continued to wait. “We decided that the best way to cover all the leads was for us to separate. I transferred responsibility for Mr. Heyes over to a Mr. Briscoe. He is a Bannerman detect.....”  
“BRISCOE!” Kenny actually raised his voice, which is a rare occurrence for him. “You put Harry Briscoe in charge of Hannibal Heyes!?”   
Cage actually felt the need to defend his motivations to this man, which was odd since Cage considered himself to be quite the competent detective and shouldn't have to explain his reasoning's to anyone other than his boss. Still, this unassuming prison warden had an air about him that demanded respect and Cage found himself scrambling to put the man's concerns to rest.   
“Mr. Heyes is under my authority throughout this whole investigation, however it has become necessary on occasion for us to separate in order to follow up on different leads. I personally did not feel comfortable sending Harry Briscoe to Cheyenne in order to interview the Judge. He seems competent enough to handle smaller assignments, but keeping his head above water while dealing with Judge Parsons seemed to me to be a little out of his reach,” Cage explained. “I assure you Warden Reece that I am aware of what Heyes is doing and Heyes promised to respect Harry's authority in this matter.”  
Kenny sighed, and sitting back in his chair, took his coffee cup with him and nursed it for a few moments as he gave himself time to digest this new bit of information. Then he chuckled, with almost a hint of playful maliciousness.   
“That must be driving Heyes nuts; having to concede to Harry Briscoe,” Kenny finally speculated but then he sobered and looked Cage in the eye. “I hope he keeps to his word on this. I like Heyes. Oddly enough both he and Jed became friends over the years that Heyes was here and I would hate to see him throw it all away on this. I don't want to see him sent back.”  
“None of us do, Warden Reece,” Cage assured him. “Abi is with him, and believe me; if anyone can keep him in line, she can. Briscoe is the official, but Abigail Stewart is the incentive. I feel very confident that Heyes will behave himself.” Then Cage smiled. “He met his daughter, did you know?”  
Kenny's eyebrows went up and he sat forward again with a smile on his face.  
“No I didn't,” he admitted. “Did it go well?”  
“I would say that it did, yes,” Cage informed him. “They have still chosen to keep the paternity a secret even from the child herself, but there was an instant connection between them that could not be denied. I really don't think that Heyes is going to do anything to jeopardize that.”  
Kenny nodded in agreement, a soft smile still hovering. “You may very well be right Mr. Attwater,” he stated. “That child has a strong hold on him. She was the only thing that kept him alive in here, I'm sure of it. Let's hope she will continue to keep him safe.”  
“Yes,” Cage agreed as he sipped his coffee again. “Ah, the main reason I wanted to see you Warden was to possibly ask Mr. Harris a few more questions concerning his involvement in this case. We seem to be having a hard time tying everything together, perhaps Mr. Harris.....” Cage stopped talking as he noticed Kenny regretfully shaking his head. “Is this a problem?”  
“I'm afraid Mr. Harris is no longer with us,” Kenny admitted somewhat reluctantly.  
“Oh,” Cage was surprised. “He's already been transferred back to Kansas? Well, I suppose those citizens are also eager for justice, but I would have thought he'd be here through the winter at least.”  
“No, Mr. Attwater,” Kenny informed him. “he was not transferred.”  
Cage creased his brow in confusion. “Well then....?”  
“I have been working here at this prison for twenty years now,” Kenny informed the detective. “and I still don't understand how the 'silent grape vine' works. But 'work' it does.” Here Kenny sighed again, looking very regretful. “There are some crimes that even a hardened convict cannot abide. When most of the inmates here can accept a man raping and torturing to death a prostitute and perhaps, even his own wife—committing those same atrocities against a young child is not so readily accepted.  
“Many of our inmates here are fathers themselves and when word of what Mr. Harris was suspected of doing got around, I'm afraid.....” Kenny frowned even more and shook his head. “We do what we can to keep the prisoners safe here, no matter what their crime. I still don't know whether the fight on the work floor was a deliberate distraction or simply a snatched opportunity, but whatever the case when all was said and done, Mr. Harris had been attacked. He was thrown off the third level walkway and hit the concrete work floor head first. Just about every bone in his body was broken. I'm afraid he did not survive.”  
“Oh,” was Cage's stunned response. “I see.” Having a cup of coffee handy was certainly a useful distraction. “Hardly a great loss though, really...”  
Kenny stiffened slightly, taking offence. “Perhaps not Mr. Attwater,” he countered. “but it is still my responsibility to keep the inmates safe. I failed Mr. Harris in that regard and despite what his crimes were he still had the right to a legal trial. Vigilantism is not acceptable in a civilized society and I regret that it was allowed to take precedence here in this situation.”  
“Oh, well yes of course! You're quite right Warden Reece. I meant no disrespect,” Cage quickly assured him. “It's just—well the nature of that crime was quite disturbing to many of us. As you say; we are all father's ourselves, and....”  
“Yes. I know,” Kenny quietly conceded as he reflected back on his own reaction upon hearing of that despicable attack and the fear and the anger he had felt himself for the safety of his own daughter. “But we must try to rise above those feelings of revenge. That is the one thing that separates us from the men who are incarcerated here.”   
Cage smiled. “Good point. Ah, you mentioned that there was something you wished to discuss with me...?”  
“Yes!” Kenny brightened up as the conversation moved away from that dark topic. “After I took over here as warden I began to notice some discrepancies with the bookkeeping. Ahh, income versus expenses, etc. I made mention of this to the Penal Board and they sent over one of their accountants to go over the prison's financial books from the past few years.  
“It appears that Mr. Mitchell had a lot more going on behind the scenes than was originally thought. Much of the funding sent here to cover the cost of heating and decent food and winter clothing seems to have trickled away into other, unknown areas. We have nothing to go on, really—no proof that he was embezzling funds, but....I believe the Penal Board had sent someone to discreetly investigate the matter further and perhaps have a word with Mr. Mitchell himself. He would at least be given the opportunity to clear himself of suspicion.”  
“That's interesting,” Cage commented as his brain went into gear. “Would you happen to know who the Penal Board sent to speak with Mr. Mitchell?”  
“No,” Kenny admitted. “I was not privy to that. Does it matter?”  
“Well....” Cage looked introspective as he scratched his chin. “we came very close to having some words with Mr. Mitchell ourselves. Unfortunately he left town rather quickly because there had been someone else in town before us, asking about him.”  
“Oh?” Kenny was mildly surprised. “Do you know who it was?”  
“He was identified to Mr. Briscoe as the marshal, Tom Morrison.”  
“Morrison!?” Kenny was totally surprised. “I thought he was an invalid, just being allotted the marshal's title as an honourary position.”  
Cage shrugged. “Apparently he's mobile enough. I swung by his hometown on my way here and the sheriff there states that he has gone to visit a friend back east. Doesn't know when he'll be back.”  
Kenny sat back, steepling his fingers and thought about this. “So....nothing official. If he is investigating Mitchell, it's being done undercover.”  
“Yes,” Cage agreed, then put out his own hypothesis. “Or, he has secretly joined forces with Mr. Mitchell in his attempts to seek revenge against Heyes and Curry. Morrison put a lot in to getting those two to trial and then look what happened.”  
Kenny sighed and quietly scrutinized Cage over top of his fingertips. Finally he straightened up, shaking his head. “I don't know Mr. Attwater. I would have to go a long ways before I could believe that Marshal Morrison would stoop so low. He has always been above board in his dealings with the law. A bit heavy handed at times, I agree—but above board, none the less.”  
“Of course,” Cage conceded. “Simply another possibility that we are considering.” He sighed and sat back himself in frustration. “This has been such a tangled web. As soon as we think we're getting close to the end of it, five more leads show up! I just want to make sure we don't miss anything.”  
“I understand that,” Kenny agreed. “Perhaps if you will leave me an address so if anything else comes up that I feel is relevant, then at least I can get in touch.” He smiled coyly. “It is most irritating being left out of the loop.”  
Cage chuckled and nodded agreement. “I can relate to that. As I said; we are using the Pinkerton office in Denver as our communications center. I'm sure that if you leave a message there, one of us will get it.”  
“Alright, thank you,” Kenny answered. “I believe we have that on record here. I'll use that if anything comes up.”  
Cage stood up then, preparing to take his leave. “Thank you for your time Warden,” he said, extending his hand if farewell. “I'll be sure to pass on this information to the other members of our team.”  
“Good.” Kenny stood up and the two men shook hands. “Send my greetings to Heyes and Jed. I have every intention of taking him up on the invitation to his wedding, so it's time we got this little mystery wrapped up!”  
Cage smiled again. “You bet. I'll let 'em know.”  
“And watch out for Heyes, will you please?” Kenny's tone was long-suffering. “That man is too damn smart for his own good and he ends up getting himself into trouble.”  
“Yeah, I noticed,” Cage mumbled whimsically. “Don't worry Warden, we'll keep 'em straight.”  
“Good. Have a safe trip back.” Then... “Mr. Murrey!!”

Harry plonked the tank on the bar, and turned to the boy carrying the parcel behind him. “Thanks, son, here’s the money I promised ya.” He dropped a few coins into the outstretched hand and turned back to the bar where curious patrons were sidling up to look at the bulbous fish darting around with huge, unblinking, black eyes and long, delicate fins trailing behind them like voluminous lace.  
“What’s them things?” a stranger asked.  
“Fish,” Harry replied, stating the obvious. “Barman, do you have some water to top up this tank? They’ve had to travel with less so it didn’t slop over the side on the train.”   
“Well, I ain’t an idiot.” The man retorted. “What kind of fish. I ain’t never seen none like that.”  
“Racing fish - real valuable. I’ve been asked to look after them in transit. I’m a Bannerman detective.”  
A tall man on Harry’s left leaned on the bar, examining the goldfish close up. “We know; that’s why nobody talks to you.”  
Harry scowled and gestured toward the barman pointing at the pump. “And a beer, please,” he turned to the stranger. “You’re talking to me now.”   
The smaller man wiped foam from his moustaches. “You ain’t never walked in here with racin’ fish before. Valuable you say?”  
Harry nodded. “World class champions. They need someone trustworthy to look after them until their owner sends somebody to take them the last leg of the journey to San Francisco. They’re the new craze – all the rich folks are betting on them. They can race them after dinner, without even mixing with the likes of us. They’re exchanging hands for thousands of dollars.”  
A huddle of interest was now forming around Harry, pushing and craning their necks to examine these fascinating new champions which were bobbing and gliding around with their mouths opening and closing in constant expressions of surprise, whilst skirts of billowing silk wafted in their wake.   
“That one’s kinda bug-eyed.”  
Harry gave a huff of exasperation. “It’s a race, not a beauty contest.”  
“What do they taste like?” demanded a small man, pushing in from behind.   
“Taste!?” Harry blustered in outrage. “Let’s get something straight. None of ya are gonna eat these fish. They’re thoroughbreds, pedigree, pure-bloods - if these fish could speak, they wouldn’t talk to any of ya.”   
“They look like they taste like frilly carrots,” ventured the old-timer to his left.  
“I think I saw somethin’ like that in San Francisco, years ago. They had them in a shop window,” muttered another. “T’weren’t so fancy though, just plain gold.”  
“Maybe you did, but they wouldn’t have been of this quality.” Harry puffed out his chest. “These are real special.”  
“Yeah,” murmured the older man. “The thin one looks kinda elegant,” he stood, drawing his arms in like a chicken, making swimming gestures with his hands and waggling his backside. “Real graceful; is it a girl fish?”  
“You tryin’ a matin’ dance, Alfie?” chortled the man with a large bearded man. “Mind you, you’re kinda bug-eyed, scaly, and toothless too. You might be her type!”  
Heyes appeared, with Ed Stanton at his side, in to enjoy a post-work drink. “What’s this, mister?”  
“Racin’ fish,” announced Alfie.  
“Fish that race?” Ed queried. “You can do that?”  
“There are in my care for safe keeping. I’m a Bannerman man.”   
“Yeah,” Ed Stanton grinned knowingly. “You looked for Uncle George and came back with fish? Great work.”  
“Nope,” Harry shook his head. “I’m still looking though. They gave me this job in the meantime.”  
“Well you mind they don’t get away from you,” Ed turned a cynical smile on Heyes. “You’ll probably turn up an owl instead.”  
Harry’s lips formed into a line. “I deal with more than one thing at a time, you know.”  
Heyes frowned into the fish tank. “I’ve heard of these, but I’ve never seen one. Can we see them race?”  
Harry shook his head purposefully. “NOBODY, gets their hands on these little beggars – not while I’m around.”  
There was a general chorus of disapproval from the bar, with cries of, “Ah, go on,” and “What’s the harm,” and one oath calling Harry something starting with ‘miserable, little...’  
“How long have you got these things?” Heyes leaned on the bar nonchalantly.   
“Five days. The owner is coming for them in person.” Harry downed the last of his drink. “Damn. I sent that boy away. How am I supposed to carry this tanks as well as my parcel?”  
“I’ll help you,” Heyes chimed in helpfully. He turned, whispering theatrically to the men beside him. “I’ve always wanted to see these things. If I can persuade him to stage a race who’s up for a harmless bet?”   
Harry seemed impervious to the nudging and nodding around him as he bent to pick up his parcel.   
“I’ll see what I can do,” he whispered in Ed’s ear, “leave it to me.”

 

“Racing fish?” Harry muttered when they stepped outside into the snow. “What have you gotten me into?”  
“A diversion, nothing more, Harry.”  
“But fish!?” Harry stepped up onto the boardwalk. “Goldfish?”  
“Yeah, but these are fancy ones with long, trailing fins and a different shape body. They look like something special. They’re exotic looking, and folks are likely to believe anything you tell them about something they’ve never seen before, especially when you say they’re not good enough to be near it.”  
Harry scowled. “Where’d you get these anyway? I’ve never seen fish like it.”  
“A friend in San Francisco got them for me, and sent them by freight.”  
“This had better be honest,” Harry muttered.   
“It is honest, and you’ll be there to make sure of it.” Heyes gave Harry a dimpled grin of reassurance. “And you need to send a telegram first thing in the morning to say these fish have arrived.”  
Harry’s brows met in the centre of his forehead in query. “Why not now?”   
“Because the man who’s on duty on Saturday evening is on tomorrow, Harry. Did you get the other stuff I requested?”  
“Yeah, but why did I have to go to another town to get that. You could buy it here.”  
“No, we couldn’t, Harry,” Heyes stepped through the door Harry held open for him. “And on Saturday night you see why.”

 

Rosenberg looked up with a smile, but it fell from his face when he recognised the sharp nose and black moustache of Harry Briscoe taking position across the counter from him. “Can I help you, Sir?”  
“I need to send a telegram,” Harry handed over a piece of paper.  
Rosenberg tried to mask the look of relief which washed over his pale face. “So, just a normal transaction? Certainly,” he looked down at the note and blinked. “Japanese Racing Fish?”  
Harry chewed on his cigar. “Yup,” he replied, gruffly. “Long frilly fins, real valuable. I’ve got them until they get collected on Sunday.”   
“Racing fish? They race? With each other?”  
Harry’s beady eyes darkened with irritation, but he played along. “What d’you think they race with, cats?”  
Rosenberg scratched his head. “I’ve heard of fighting fish, but never racing fish.”  
“They’re rare; I sure wish I could get rid. What if they die before I can hand them over? It’s a big responsibility.”   
“Maybe I could take a look at them? I was bitten by the bug when I was a boy, and I’ve been an ardent ichthyologist ever since.”  
Harry shook his head sadly. “Aw, gee. I’m real sorry. That sounds tough, don’t you ever get relief?”  
“No, I love fish.”  
“Me too,” responded Harry. “A bit of batter and some vinegar... just the job.”  
“Are you going to race them?” Rosenberg asked, wearily.  
Harry scowled. “No. Have you got my receipt? I’m in a hurry.”  
“Could I even see them?” Rosenberg tapped out the staccato message before he entered the transaction into a logbook.   
“All kinds of folks are after those little critters, and I’m not taking the chance of somebody dropping something in the water to stop them racing. They stay in my room.”  
“But...”  
“I said no, Rosenberg,” barked Harry.   
Rosenberg sighed. “Here you go, Mr. Briscoe. You’re message has been sent.”  
Harry left the office, wondering who on earth Heyes had made him send a nonsensical message to.   
The next man in line bustled up to the counter watching the detective’s departing back with a dimpled grin.   
Rosenberg nodded in Harry’s direction. “There’s a man who makes strangers easily.”   
Heyes followed the clerk’s gaze. “He’s staying in my hotel, and he’s giving a talk on law enforcement to the women’s welfare group at seven o’clock on Saturday. The fish are in his room.”  
“So?” Rosenberg asked, curiously.  
“The manager is a betting man; he’s got a bath tub, and a master key.” Heyes arched his brows. “The detective’ll never know. Do you want in?”  
Rosenberg gave him a pained look. “Aw I can’t, I’m working on Saturday night, I’m the only one here, damn it. I study exotic fish. It’s my hobby and I’d give anything to see them.”   
“Can’t you get cover? I’ve never seen fish like them in my life.”  
“Saturday evenings I’m here on my own,” Rosenberg replied.  
“So what do you do if you need to use the outhouse?”  
“I lock the door and turn the sign around.” Rosenberg shrugged. “If a message comes in it’s recorded on the paper strip. Anything else’ll just have to wait.”  
“So?” Heyes’ eyes twinkled temptingly. “Lock the door, who’s gonna know. You’re clearly interested in fish. You just want to see them. It wouldn’t take above ten minutes. Who’s to know?”  
“I suppose...”  
Heyes shrugged. “Hey, just think about it. It makes no difference to me, but those things’ll be outta here Sunday morning. It’ll be your only chance.” He handed over his message. “Here, I want to send this to a friend. The wife and I are moving into a little house today. I thought they’d want to know we’re not going to be at the hotel anymore.” 

 

Fingers of shadows and light danced over Abigail’s pensive face as she gazed aimlessly into the fire, before she picked up a log and tossed it into the flames. Sparks flew, cracking and spitting, tossing out sparkling, glittering scintillae of light which floated up before dissipating into nowhere. She turned at the sound of the door opening and watched Heyes kick the snow from his boots against the door jamb.   
“It’s coming down real heavy now,” he pulled off his jacket and draped it over the back of the chair, looking around the cabin. It had only one room, but it was well provisioned, with a brass bedstead set against the far wall, a table with two chairs in the centre of the room, and a wide roaring fire providing most of the heat and light. “You’ve got a good fire going. It’s real cosy in here.”   
“It’s basic, but it’ll do” Abigail wiped away the vestiges of the logs from her hands. “It’s pretty much what we could expect to start with on your income.”  
He gave a sheepish smile. “I know, Abi. I’m sorry.” He walked over to the hearth where she knelt and laid gentle hands on her shoulders. “I don’t have much to offer, do I?”  
Her fingers curled around his. “Mr. Heyes, you have your whole life ahead of you and more potential than many could dream of. You’ll be fine.”   
“There’s a bit of me that can’t quite grasp why good people stayed with me.”   
“You reap what you sow – you earned loyalty.” She turned her head to kiss his hand, her thumb tracing a gentle, meandering stroke over his knuckles. “You were a thief, a liar, and a cheat; but you were never cruel. There was always that valuable nugget there, the part your mother would have been proud of.” She felt him stiffen at the mention.   
“My mother?” Heyes gave a dry laugh. “After I ran away and left my sister?” He paused. “My heart stopped when I saw Anya run. I suddenly heard footsteps echoing in my memory.” He sighed heavily. “It was like the dead haunting me in the form of the living.”  
She grasped his hand more tightly. “Mr. Heyes, I am a mother. We want our children to survive above all else – besides, what could a boy really have done? She would know that you were too young. She’d love her boy, she’d will you to live, and love, and laugh. If you understand nothing else, you must truly get that in your head. You’re all she has left. Make her proud. If Anya reminds you of them, think of it as a whisper of the future.”  
Heyes blinked back the sting in his eyes. “You have a way of cutting to the quick, Abi.”  
“Good. There’s too much nonsense in your head, you need to concentrate on what matters.” She raised his hand to her lips again. “The future matters, not the past.”  
“The future...”  
Abigail dropped her head. “The moment, then - just now, the rest will follow.” She paused. “So, we’ve got two days before your plan on Saturday? What if he’s not prepared to go and see the fish?   
Heyes rubbed his face. “I’ve got a backup plan. He’ll get out of there, one way or another - without a shot being fired.”  
She arched her brows. “It’s time to send Harry to the Stanton’s. Let’s put the pressure on, and let’s see if they contact Mitchell. Are you sure we won’t even have to point a gun?”  
“Trust me, Abi. You’ll have to be fast, but you’ll get a diversion, maybe even two. He might fall for both and give you more time, if we’re lucky.”   
Abigail pulled at the hinged metal arms set into the fireplace, designed to swing pans over the flames for cooking. They were old technology, now overtaken by ranges. She had only seen them in very old and poor residences. “Stew, I’ve been busy cleaning, so I made something simple. It’s not exactly Jesse’s standard, but it’s good enough. I’ve made dumplings too.”  
“Sounds good, and I’m sure it’s way better than Jesse’s.” He looked around the little house, scratching his head. “Plates? Have we got plates?”

 

They sat back, full, warm, and contented, basking in the heat of the roaring fire. Heyes tapped the table distractedly, his eyes swirling with nebulous shadows and intricate introspection.  
“Penny for them.”  
“Huh?”  
“A penny for your thoughts,” Abigail smiled. “The old saying... what are you thinking about? Or should I say; over-thinking?”  
His dark eyes flicked up to hers. “I’m thinking about how natural this feels.”  
“It does, doesn’t it? And no horse trough, so I can relax.”  
His mouth spread into a grin. “I wish I could say I was sorry about that.”  
“You’re incorrigible. That was horrible.”  
“But fun.”  
Abigail giggled. “You devil! I’m glad I pulled you in after me.”  
His smile dropped, but his eyes retained the glitter of the thrill. “I am too, Abi,” he reached across the table and grasped her hand. “It got us talking again. It was a start.”  
“Yes, I was so miserable without you,” she grinned and caressed his fingers, “it was almost as bad as seeing you again.”  
“You do push it, Abi,” Heyes laughed.  
“So do you.” She reached over and took his plate. “I’d better do the dishes.”  
“In a minute, they’ll keep. You have a forfeit to pay.”  
She darted a curious look at him. “A forfeit?”  
He stood and walked around the table. “You wanted a penny for my thoughts, and you haven’t come up with the goods. Do you think that’s a good idea with one of the most notorious outlaws in the west?” He took her hand, bringing her to her feet and gave her fingers a delicate kiss. “How do you suggest I collect?”   
She shook her head and gave a light laugh. “What am I going to do with you?”  
He stretched an arm around her waist drawing her to him. His hot breath smouldered in her ear as he whispered into it. “Good question, what are you going to do? We’re alone at last, no neighbouring rooms to keep quiet for. We can do whatever we want.” He gently stroked her cheek. “Thank God those bruises have faded. How could I ever have done that to you?”  
She nuzzled into his palm. “Don’t...” She turned warm eyes up to him. “You didn’t do it. You had a nightmare. In fact, you lived a nightmare; that’s what caused it.” She dropped soft kisses over the sensitive, delicate skin, before continuing up to his wrist, caressing the scar with velvet lips.   
He pulled her to her feet and drew her to him, murmuring in her ear while nibbling at the shell, causing electric tingles to shoot through her psyche. “Last time was all about me. How about a night for you?”  
Abigail drew back. “As I remember it, I was just as bad. It had been a long time for me too. I don’t see that you have any debt to pay.”  
“Let me be the judge of that, Abi? You’ve helped me with my dreams; now, that’s either down to you Scottish folks understanding how ghosts work, or you just got there first, and took the time to show me the way.” He tugged her chin up towards him with a crooked finger. “I get some sleep now, and that’s a gift, let me repay it.”  
“What did you have in mind?”  
A smile tugged at his lips as he drew her towards the bed. “Let me show you.” He leaned forward, a strong arm drawing around her waist before he swung her onto the mattress. “Let me look after you.” He lowered himself on top of her.  
He caught her mouth in a deep kiss, his hand working deftly at the buttons of her blouse. He felt her cling to him, dropping urgent little pecks around his throat before sweeping her lips over his Adam’s apple and continuing down to his chest. He pulled back, pushing her back into the pillows with a soft smile. “We’re taking it slow this time, Abi.”  
She flicked up an eyebrow. “You decided that, have you?”   
“Yup,” he gathered up her skirts with one hand while opening her blouse with the other, his hot breath on her breast making her skin tingle, stimulating her arousal. He gave a groan of satisfaction as he released her breasts from the corset, licking the nipples into puckered excitement until she shifted beneath him and raised her hands to his buttons again.   
He gave a secret smile and sat back, dragging back her skirts and undoing the buttons on her boots, tossing them to the floor. He let his hands caress her legs, roaming and snaking gently over the silken skin. He felt her arch against the stimulation. “Take it easy, I’ve only just started, and we have all night.” He crawled back up, pausing only to stare down into her eyes, before he slowly lowered himself down into a deep, dark kiss.  
He pulled back, touching his forehead against hers. “I love you, Abi. I knew you were special the moment I met you.”  
“And you are the love of my life, Mr. Heyes. You always will be... that’s my tragedy.”  
He placed a finger on her lips. “Sssh! No talk of tragedy, Abi. We take this a day at a time.”  
Her lips puckered, kissing the finger before taking it into her mouth, sucking gently on the end. “A day? That sounds ambitious, but I’m up for it if you are.”  
He grinned, capturing her mouth in a hungry kiss, his hand sliding down to the warm, moist centre, feeling her heat. He started to work on her, manipulating her until she gasped, arching into him. He narrowed his eyes. “Not yet, Abi, we’re making this last.”  
She groaned in frustration, her urgency mounting, but he ran his fingers down her leg, rolling her stocking back and running his velvet lips against her flesh. He kissed his way down to her ankle, pausing at the sensitive skin on the sole of her foot. He glanced at her, his eyes dancing with mischief. “No! I’m ticklish,” she cried.  
“I know,” Heyes chuckled. “All that sensitive flesh.” He ran a long finger down the sole of her wriggling foot as she screamed in protest. He dropped her leg, climbing over her to seal her protests with a kiss. “I want to play, Abi. Indulge me.”  
“When have I ever refused you anything?” she chuckled.  
“Don’t get me started...” Heyes dropped his mouth to her nipple, running his teeth gently over it, enjoying the tight arousal he found there. He lay on top of her, lightly flicking the areola with the tip of his tongue, his other hand dropping down to seek out her slick, moist excitement. She arched in blatant invitation as his clever, deft fingers drove her mad with mounting waves of thunderous need. The waves of ecstasy grew until they escalated into a frenzy – then he stopped.  
“No!”  
“Yes, Abi... you don’t get to cum until I’m good and ready, and that’ll be a while yet.” He slipped his hand down to remove her other stocking, rolling it down, snaking his hand lubricously across her flesh, setting off explosions of hunger which made her groan with frustration. He sucked at her little toe before dabbling tickling fingers across the sole of her other foot. Abigail gave a squeal of vexation and sat up, tugging at his shirt, dragging him back up to a hungry kiss; they fell back on the bed together, entwined in a passionate embrace, her hands tangled in his hair, pushing for the climax she desperately needed. She rolled on top of him, plucking at his buttons, dropping kisses on his chest before he felt pinpricks of pain as her nibbling, clenched teeth dragged at the hairs. Heyes gave a great sigh and flipped her onto her back, dropping his forehead to hers. “Do you trust me, Abi?”  
She stared into his eyes, cast in shadow in the firelight. “Yes, with my life. Why?”  
He gave a wicked twinkle, dropping a light kiss on the tip of her nose. His dark, velvet eyes drew her in, inviting her to a hidden part of him. “Good.”  
He leaned back and grasped something from the bed, and before she knew what was happening he had dragged her hands together, deftly binding them with the stocking. “What are you doing?” Abigail gasped.   
“You know what I’m doing, Abi,” he chuckled. “I wouldn’t do this with any other woman, but you have a way of pushing me further than anyone I’ve ever met. I’m about to push you too.” He fastened off her bound hands to the bedstead and dragged her body down the bed so her arms were stretched uselessly above her head. He grinned, “and there’s not one thing you can do about it!”   
“You’re kidding me!”  
He gave her a look of reproach. “Abi, there’s no need to bring him into this. Don’t ruin the mood!” She tugged uselessly at her bonds, but Hannibal Heyes knew how to tie a knot – and how to make sure they were well away from exploring fingers. “I’ll untie you when I’m good and ready, until then you’re staying right where you are.” He took her mouth in a probing, exploring kiss. “I’ve caught you now, Abi”  
“You caught me a long time ago, Mr. Heyes.” She laid back, his roaming fingers taking down her hair until it cascaded over the pillows. She flicked up an eyebrow in challenge. “So? Just what are you going to do to me?”   
“I’m going to find your limits, Abi, and knowing you, it’ll probably take a while,” he sat astride her, rolling her taught nipples between his fingers, igniting flares of need. “At least, it will if I have anything to do with it.”  
Abigail had no idea how long he tortured both her, and himself. He explored her body, cleverly unlocking sensations from almost every inch, driving her to growl in helpless frustration as he pushed her nearer and nearer to climax, but backed off at the last moment, time and time again. He played her like a musician, learning every nuance and cadence of her mind and body, until every jangling nerve was so taught she thought she was about to explode. Every one of her senses was heightened, she could taste him in every kiss; his whispered words echoed around her fevered brain, and her nostrils were filled with the scent of his essence.   
He slid into her, pumping yet again, bearing down on her until her breath came in great rasping gasps. She strained against him and her bonds, helpless to do anything other than be caught up in the swirling, whirlpool; the mounting frenzy he intensified time and time again. He felt her fluttering muscles build towards orgasm; he drove harder, sucking in a breath and judging the moment to slip out of her again.  
She gave a wail of frustration. “PLEASE! No more...” she groaned, as he tantalized her yet again by stoking his long fingers gently over her neck. “I can’t take any more.”  
Heyes smiled softly, kissing her softly before taking her lower lip between his teeth and tugging gently on it. “I’ll be the judge of that, Abi.”  
He lay on top of her, nibbling at her nipple before kissing his way down to the valley between her breasts, his right hand roaming across her already alight flesh. The light sweeping touches made her suck in her breath and arch her back. He nuzzled into her neck, sucking in her musk. “You might be ready now. Just one more time, huh?”  
“No!” She writhed beneath his weight, feeling his hand return once more to her, driving her heaving breath to rise in tune with the growing waves of helplessness mounting, and the surging sensations engulfing her. “I’m ready now, please!”  
She felt the laugh resonate through his chest. “Once more.”  
She bit into her lip, the rising, power whirling within her as he drove her on once more. She felt the undulating muscles ripple and flutter yet again, betraying her by their insistence on responding to his stimulus, rather than to her own will. She tensed, grinding her hips against Heyes’ in a desperate need for release from the never ending cycle of arousal. He looked down on her, the glittering sweat on her brow, and her wildly dilated pupils telling him that she was finally ready for him. He was ready too; hell, he’d been ready half an hour ago.  
She raised her hips on the bed, practically begging for the release of climax, and he could feel her already quivering muscles surrounding him as he entered. She was so close, and so was he. He thrust into her, over and over again, allowing himself to be lost in the moment; he felt her thundering climax roll around him, setting off his own ejaculation: both of them, gasped, juddered and shuddered as they came together in the long anticipated orgasm, the crowning point of so much tantalizing stimulation. It was a crashing, reverberating spasm, all the more heightened for the long-awaited zenith.   
He collapsed onto her, groaning and laughing, kissing her throat where she still lay arched against the pillows. He reached up and untied her hands, before sliding out of her.  
He rolled over and lay beside her, picking strands of hair from her face. “Well, was it worth the wait?”  
Abigail dragged her arms down, her breasts rising and falling with her still rasping breath. She turned her head, fixing him with swirling dark eyes. “You devil! I thought I was going to explode. Just how long did you keep me going!?”  
Heyes slipped out of the rest of his clothes and pulled the blankets over him, nestling back on the pillows with both hands behind his head, answering her with only a glittering smile.  
Her eyes widened. “Answer me. Do you really think I’ll let you away with that!?”  
Heyes flicked up an eyebrow, giving her a wicked glint. “Well... I was kinda hoping you wouldn’t... but give me ten minutes.”

 

“Mr. Stanton, Mr. Stanton, come quick. Your wife’s shot him!”  
The red-haired boy who had just run into the office wiped his nose on his sleeve and stared at Heyes and Ed with frantic blue eyes.  
“Julia?” Ed dropped his pen on the blotter. “Shot who, Gene? What’s going on?”  
“That detective, Mr. Stanton, he came to question her about her uncle. She’s gone mad!”  
“Oh, Sh*t,” muttered Heyes, turning the sign to closed and turning the latch on the door as he rapidly followed Ed down the sidewalk towards the Stanton place. Abigail had briefed Harry to be annoying to provoke Julia into action, but she’d possibly overlooked his starting point on the scale of vexation. Upping his game was surely going to take him into dangerous territory.  
They got there in about five minutes, and Heyes’ stomach sank to see Harry lying by the front gate. He heaved a sigh of relief as Harry moved, confirming he was very much alive, and well enough to raise his arm to protect his head from the wet mop giving him a thorough thrashing about the head and shoulders.  
“Julia!” yelled Ed. “What are you doing?”  
She turned a puce face on her husband. “It’s that no-good, low-down, good-for-nothing detective!”   
Ed grabbed the mop from her hands. “Did you shoot him?”  
“I shot at him,” she propped her hands on her hips. “I missed.”  
Harry pushed himself up to a sitting position. “You didn’t miss; you shot a hole in my hat, you’re a female madman!”   
Heyes heaved a sigh of relief and crouched down beside Harry. “Are you alright?” he whispered.  
Harry shot daggers at him. “You told me to annoy her. She could have killed me,” he hissed.  
“I thought you could handle a housewife on your own,” Heyes murmured as he held out a hand and helped Harry to his feet, trying not to laugh at the sight of Harry’s sodden backside; wet and cold with the clinging muddy slush.  
“I’ll have the law on you,” barked Harry, snatching up his damaged hat. “You can’t just go around shooting at folks.”  
“Folks?” snapped Julia, her eyes glistening with tears. “You’re nothing but a menace. Can’t you just leave me alone? I don’t know where my uncle is, and even if I did I wouldn’t help you hand him over to some murdering low-life. He spent his life working for decency, and this is how you thank him? You should be ashamed!”  
“Go away and leave us alone! For the last time - we can’t help.” A furious Ed put protective arms around his wife. Heyes felt a pang of sympathy for the genuine pain glittering in the woman’s eyes. She couldn’t help who she was related to, and she had witnessed her father’s dreadful murder, but there was a job to be done and he whispered the prompt in Harry’s ear for him to deliver his killer line. He dropped his voice. “Do it Harry. Tell her what we told you to say, I’ll protect you.”  
Harry rolled his eyes, but reluctantly continued with his role. “Please yourself, but you should know; I’m not the only one looking for him. He was embezzling from the prison, and the authorities now have evidence. If you don’t believe me, ask him yourself. You know where he is. I know you do.”  
Julia screamed like a banshee before launching herself at the soggy Bannerman. Ed caught his wife around the waist, but she kept up the fight, kicking and screaming until she croaked like a demented hen.   
Heyes gave a placating smile and grabbed Harry by the scruff of the neck. “I’ll get him out of here, Ed. You look after your wife, huh?” he hustled Harry around the corner before releasing him and straightening his jacket. “Great work, Harry. Even better than I thought you’d do.”  
“Great work?” Harry waggled a finger through the hole in his hat. “That could have been my head!”  
“But it wasn’t,” Heyes replied calmly. “Let’s get you back to the hotel, where you can have a nice, warm bath and a drink,” he leaned back and glanced at Harry’s soggy derriere. “We need to get that suit dry before we get out of here tomorrow.”  
“Tomorrow?”  
“Yup, there’s a late train at eight o’clock. We’re gonna be on it, all of us. We don’t want to hang around any later than that.”

 

Heyes pulled out his pocket watch. “Five to seven.”  
Abigail darted a glance up and down the street. “He’s not going. If he was going to see the fish he’d be gone by now.”  
Heyes nodded. “Yeah, it looks like it,” he slipped his watch into his pocket. Well, we’ll have to rely on my backup plan. When he runs out of there you’ll have to be quick, Abi. He won’t have time to lock the door. Just look at that ledger and get out of there.”  
Abigail shook her head. “I’m not sure about this.”  
Heyes patted her on the arm. “It’ll be fine. Harry will keep watch and delay him if he comes back. Just pretend to be a normal customer, Abi, even if the lock’s been picked. He’ll just doubt whether or not he actually locked it.”  
“Heyes you can’t pick locks!” Harry exclaimed. “You’re on parole.”  
“I know; that’s why Abi’s doing it. I’ll be nowhere near here.” He raised his hand to wave farewell and clattered off down the sidewalk.  
“Did he teach you how to pick locks?” Harry demanded.  
“Of course not,” Abigail looked offended. “I learned years before I met him... right before I learned safes. I really should have spent more time on that. I’m useless at safes.”  
“I’ve asked you this before, but I’ll ask again...did you used to be a criminal?”  
“No,” she fixed him with an uncompromising stare. “And I’ve never even been tempted, Harry.”  
“What’s that supposed to mean?”  
Her eyes widened innocently. “What could it mean?” She glanced away with a secretive smile. “Forget it, look; Rosenberg’s heading out to the hotel. He’s either been busy or his watch is slow. Keep a look out.”  
She walked over to the door, pausing only to draw something from her hair.  
“A hairpin? For crying out loud, has she been reading dime novels?” Harry muttered under his breath, but he was cut silent when the door slid open, almost as quickly as if she had a key, and entered just like any other customer.

 

Harry stood on the sidewalk, guarding the group’s bags and keeping a keen eye on the dark January street; watching for Rosenberg’s return to the office. Heyes had made it clear that a backup was needed, because a man with a keen interest in fish would quickly spot ordinary, but fancy, goldfish. Heyes hadn’t been wrong; it seemed no time at all before the tall, lean figure of Ira Rosenberg emerged from around the corner and headed back across the road towards the Western Union office. Harry muttered a curse under his breath and dropped the stub of his cigar onto the boardwalk, grinding it into the dank boards underfoot before setting off to intercept the clerk.  
Suddenly, a resounding explosion rent the night air, followed by a huge fireball which leaped high above the roofs. The bright orange flash lit up the darkness, casting long, dark shadows which stood out starkly against the incandescent fluorescence of the blast. As the fireball receded, the street was suddenly filled with the melee of shouting, the squeals of horses, and people streaming out of doorways to investigate the explosion. Rosenberg stood stock-still in shock before he turned on his heel and ran towards the scene of the blast with along everyone else.  
A tall, dark figure appeared on the sidewalk and strolled nonchalantly towards Harry, his composure in complete contrast to the chaos of the yelling townsfolk desperately trying to establish what had happened in their quiet, little town.   
“Heyes, what, in the name of all that’s holy, did you do to make an explosion like that?” demanded Harry. “I only got you two sticks of dynamite.”  
Heyes gave a dimpled grin, watching the confusion and chaos with amusement. “Well, it had to be spectacular, Harry, it’s evening. We all know that a real explosion’s nothing like they’re described in the dime novels. A couple of sticks of dynamite would make a bang, but after the initial explosion the smoke would be lost in the dark. It had to be spectacular to be a good diversion.” He looked around casually. “No sign of Abi yet?”  
Harry scratched his head. “So what did you use for the flash?”  
“The flour and sugar I asked you to get at the same time as the dynamite. All those little particles hanging in the air make for a spectacular fire flash when they burn. It worked well, huh? Two barrels in the middle of the road with a stick in each one, along with the mixture and it went up with a bang. That’s why I asked you to get everything in the next town - so they couldn’t relate it to us.” Heyes nodded, clearly impressed at his own success. “A bit of spectacular effect – no damage, nobody hurt and nothing illegal.”   
Harry shook his head. “Nothing illegal? Have you ever heard of disturbing the peace?”   
“Heard of it? I perfected it,” chuckled Heyes. “Ah, here comes Abi?”  
Abigail bustled towards them. “Did you see!? I can’t believe the way the sky lit up.”  
“Yeah,” Heyes nodded. “I wasn’t sure it would work, but I’ll have to remember that for the future. Did you get anything?”  
Her dark eyes gleamed up at them. “She’s been sending messages to a Charles Anderson in Joplin, Missouri; the last one was less than an hour after her confrontation with Harry. It said, ‘irregularities in accounts claimed. Please respond.”  
“Anderson,” Heyes looked pensively off down the street. “So, we head to Joplin. I’ll send a telegram to the Kid to meet us there.”  
They picked up their bags and headed to the railway station, Heyes stepping gallantly around Abigail to walk on the outside of the sidewalk. “Do you ever feel sorry for the marks, Abi?”  
She nodded, slipping a hand around his arm. “It’s hard not to. Julia Stanton is a bit of a tragic figure. She really believes her father and his relatives were innocent soldiers and upstanding men, and she saw her father killed; but the truth is out there and it’s starting to eat at her; what with her uncle’s behaviour, and Jed’s trial. All that aggression is denial – but part of her knows. At best her father stood by and watched what happened to your families, and she understands what that was from the trial; at worst – she believes Jed, and is angry at him for destroying the memory she clung to all these years,” Abigail grimaced. “I don’t believe for a moment that didn’t affect her – she’s too disturbed by it all.”  
Heyes sighed deeply. “I like her husband. I sure hope they’re not directly involved.”  
“They have a son,” Abigail murmured, “so I do too, Mr. Heyes, I really do.”

 

Heyes had time to read on the way to Joplin. A.W. Carson, the founder of the Joplin Daily Herald, described the place as consisting of, ‘lead, whiskey, and gambling,’ but the conscientious work of Officer Daniel Sheehan had ‘cleaned up the worst excesses, allowing respectable people to go about their business unmolested provided they prudently kept to their own communities.’ Heyes couldn’t help but grin at the description of Sheehan as a gallant Irish Scholar, fluent in both Gaelic and English, as drilled in military tactics as he was in handling the ‘sirens of sin.’   
Yup, If they had to deal with local law, Abigail would be the best placed to get him on side.  
Abigail shuffled through some papers, laying some aside on the seat beside her. “Harry, most of the customers hit by The Devil’s Hole Gang used the Bannerman agency. Is there anyone who stood out as being particularly angry at being robbed?”  
Harry shrugged. “I dunno. I can’t think of anyone.”  
“Can you send a telegram at the next stop and ask? I want to check out a theory.”  
“You think we ruined or humiliated somebody powerful, don’t you?” asked Heyes.  
“I’m not sure, all I know is that somebody seems to be intent on hurting people close to you both, not just one of you; so it’s the most obvious reason. There may not be a connection to the Stantons at all; Mitchell may have just been a conveniently placed corrupt official.” Abigail turned over another page of her notes. “You have to be very careful not to make the evidence fit an idea you already have in your head. That’s very bad science and you’ll overlook a lead to the real perpetrator. Can you think of a particular enemy, Mr. Heyes?”  
“I can’t think of any,” Heyes shook his head. “Sure we annoyed plenty of people, but I don’t think we did anything bad enough for them to do this. They’d have gone after us, not Beth.”  
Abigail frowned and looked down at her work. “Did Danny Bilson have any family?”  
“I don’t know.”  
“Hmm, I’ll have to get Cage to look into that,” Abigail mused. “What about Clyde Ross?”  
“Who? asked Heyes.  
“The other raider Jed killed. He admitted it in his trial. He went for Jed saying he should have cut his throat like he did his brother’s, then Jed killed him.”  
“Sorry, Abi. I’ve no idea,” Heyes frowned. “What are you getting at?”  
“I really don’t know. I’m just playing with ideas, but it’s something else to check out.” She returned to her paperwork, chewing idly on her thumbnail.   
Heyes returned to his reading. It was clear that the newspaper proprietor saw the local lawman as some kind of hero, probably because Sheehan was a great source of entertaining stories. The corners of Heyes’ mouth twitched as he read of Sheehan’s latest escapades with California Kate, described as being a lewd woman ‘on her regular drunk,’ who was found ‘in a beastly state of intoxication in the alley west of Main Street yesterday. She resisted arrested, fought, scratched, and shouted foul epithets known only to her ilk. In her struggle, she tore off the skirt of her dress, but was finally landed in the calaboose.’ Heyes chuckled and turned the page. Between that, and the catalogue of shootings, Joplin seemed like quite a place.  
Abigail craned her neck over his shoulder. “What are you reading, Mr. Heyes?”   
“I’m reading up on Joplin.” His dark eyes flicked up to meet hers. “I don’t suppose there’s any point in asking you not to go wandering off by yourself, is there?”  
“Why?” She peered curiously down at Heyes’ newspaper. “What have you found out?”  
“I’d have loved it in my heyday, but it’s not the kind of place for a man to take his respectable fiancé.”  
Harry’s cigar drooped as his jaw dropped open in surprise. “Fiancé!?”  
Abigail blushed and glared at Heyes. “We’re not engaged. It’s merely cover.”  
Harry smirked wickedly. “Yeah?”  
“Yes,” Abigail nudged Heyes. “Tell him.”  
Harry was enjoying himself immensely, for once he wasn’t the one caught off balance. “So you won’t be sharing a room this time?”   
“No,” Abigail replied, firmly.  
“Yes,” Heyes corrected, delivering a purposeful glower at Harry. “Of all the places we’ve been lately, this is one place a woman shouldn’t be travelling alone. We stick to the story, Abi, and no arguments.”  
Abigail sat back and folded her arms. “If you don’t want an argument you’re going the wrong way about it.”   
“Why are you turning on me,” Heyes protested, “Harry’s the one who’s stirring it?”  
Two sets of brown eyes pinned Harry in his Pullman seat. “You’re right. Divide and conquer, how could I have been so stupid?”  
“So, answer the question.” Harry folded his arms defensively. “You’re clearly a couple.”  
“We have history,” Abigail murmured.   
“No kidding,” grinned Harry. “You’ve got chemistry too - not to mention biology. I was there at Christmas, you know.”  
“You’re going too far, Harry,” growled Heyes.  
Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “What? The Kid’s engaged. I thought it’d be nice, is all...”  
Heyes held Harry’s gaze. “If you want to be nice, give us space, Harry. We hadn’t seen each other for ten years and there’s been a lot of water under the bridge since then. We’re trying to work things out, and this isn’t the town for her to be going solo.”  
Abigail looked indignant. “I can manage; I’ve stayed in worse on my own.”  
“Abi, even when we were on opposite sides of the law I watched your back when I found you in places like Joplin, if you think I’m going to stop doing that now, you can think again.” He flicked up an eyebrow, “and the Kid’s on his way here too. It’ll be him or me, and you know he’s not going to sit back and leave you unprotected in a rough town either. Take it from me; he can be real stubborn about things like that.”  
“I suppose I should be flattered,” Abigail sighed, slipping a hand into Heyes’. “So, we’re ‘married’ again. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, I just take it as a slight on my abilities.”  
Harry shook his head. “Just how did you two get together in the first place?”  
“We robbed a train she was on, and she told the Kid off good and proper,” Heyes' face dimpled into a grin. “She was after us, but got more than she bargained for.”  
“As you remember, I chose to pursue murderers instead, Mr. Heyes, it wasn’t because I couldn’t.”  
Heyes gave a mischievous twinkle. “Or because you couldn’t do anything until we let you go?”  
“Well,” Abigail retorted, “maybe you did that because I smashed you on the head with a jug?”   
“I’ve gotta admit, it was a factor,” Heyes gave her a considered look, “but I wanted the killers caught too.”  
Abigail nodded. “That’s what saved you; you really cared about those dead girls, both of you. That’s why I walked away, but don’t forget that I did get you both in a jail cell, so you know I could have caught you if I’d really wanted to.”  
Heyes nodded. “Yeah, we both flirted with danger for a very long time. We were on opposite sides of the law, but matched in every other way,” his hand curled around hers. “I guess we lived like we’d die any time, and that heightens everything. I didn’t realise it’d still feel special to meet as equals.” Abigail sat in silence, but her grip on Heyes’ hand tightened. “She forced a thaw, so it was tough at first.” Heyes gave Harry a simple smile; the type he rarely presented – it had no artifice, no guile, and no ulterior motive – it was merely a display of contentment. “She loved me when I least deserved it, and she pushed me to be better man. It’d be the stupidest thing I’d ever do if I walked away from her and my daughter.”  
Harry sat staring pensively at the couple opposite. “Yeah, there’s a right time for us all to get off the road. I might see about an office job after this. Christmas got me thinking it was time to settle down.”  
Abigail stood. “I think you boys need to talk, and I need some air,” she dropped a kiss on Heyes’ cheek and folded the transcripts back into the manila folder. “I’ll be on the observation deck.” 

 

The Missouri countryside flashed by in the darkness; showing only in hard, stiff, snow-covered snatches illuminated by the lights from the train windows as they trundled through the night. There was nothing to see, but Abigail wasn’t standing out here for the view. She shrugged more deeply into her coat and allowed her mind to run along with the rhythmic clatter of the wheels, trying to ignore the cold burning into her sinuses. There was so much to think about. Was Julia Stanton a link, or was Mitchell a coincidental official, just in that right place at the right time? She had no doubt they’d catch him, but what if he wouldn’t talk?   
She sighed. If she were still a Pinkerton, with access to their records and resources, she would be able to deal with this relatively efficiently, but doing this the hard way was not only frustrating, it was keeping her from Anya.   
She had no doubt the motive was to hurt anyone involved with both Heyes and Curry. The gunman who had walked into her hallway that night had looked straight up the stairs – he had been after her daughter, and he had enjoyed the pain in her eyes when he smirked at her. That had stiffened Abigail’s resolve, and she would not rest until this ended; one way or another.  
She stepped over to the other side of the observation platform and leaned on the rail – she was convinced the answer lay either in their criminal past or in the raid on their homes all those years ago. They were the only living eyewitnesses? No... Anyone worrying about being identified would dispose of witnesses, not their loved ones. This was personal.  
She kicked idly at the rail, unable to pace for lack of room. It all kept coming down to their past. They had hurt somebody; someone vindictive enough to extract the maximum amount of pain, from them, and their loved ones; they were able to access officials and drive men to kill. It all pointed towards a powerful enemy with an axe to grind, and that was where she had to concentrate next.   
She turned at the sound of the door to the carriage opening, smiling at Heyes who came out and closed the door behind him. “You’ve been out here for ages. I was getting worried about you.”  
“Me? I’m just thinking.” She stood upright and reached up to touch his face with a gloved hand. “Thank you,” she murmured.  
“What for?”  
“For what you said in there to Harry, it was lovely.”  
Heyes took her hand. “It’s true. You broke my heart when we split.” He gave a rueful chuckle. “I always thought that meant weeping and moping. Who knew it could make you angry enough to put your fist through a door and drink yourself under the table, but I guess that’s not the kind of thing they write poems about though, huh? ”   
“More of a limerick?” She gave a watery smile. “I’m sorry. I never intended to hurt you. I had hoped you’d understand why we had to go, for both your sakes. You’d have been in jail years earlier, or even dead.”  
He looked into her eyes, earnest and tender in the light from the railway carriage. “I know, it took me a long time to get there, but I did. I’m sorry, Abi. All this has really brought it home to me just how right you were. What have you come up with?”  
“That somebody hates you both. I’m going to sit down in Joplin and start with a list of everyone you’ve killed – both of you. It’s as good a place to start as any.” 

 

Historical Notes  
Both Daniel Sheehan and  A.W. Carson, were real men and the description of the lawman and the events in Joplin were quoted directly from the Joplin Daily Herald.  
 


	9. Ashes to Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our detectives close in on one of their suspects.  
> Heyes and Jed run up against an old adversary.  
> Heyes is forced to reconsider some of his choices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Death by fire  
> Violence  
> Swearing

ASHES TO ASHES

Heyes pushed his jacket back to get easy access to his gun. Joplin’s railway station was far too near the whooping and the jangly music coming from the various saloons for his liking – well, his taste was not so much of the issue, in different circumstances he’d have been very pleased to step off the train and be right in the centre of the shenanigans; but accompanying a woman and carrying baggage marked him out as a fairly easy target for the shady figures he saw dawdling in the shadows and gloom.  
Harry walked ahead of them, maintaining the fiction of being on his own. Heyes watched him clatter around the corner, sporting the new fedora he had purchased to replace the one damaged by Julia Stanton’s bullet, but subsequently thoroughly destroyed by her mop.  
“Will you please relax,” Abigail urged, picking up on his tension. “We’re fine - the porter told us that the hotel is in the next street, so we’re nearly there.”  
“Yeah,” murmured Heyes, scanning the streets with sharp eyes. Two men had emerged from a doorway and fallen in behind Harry. Heyes groaned inwardly. Harry looked too much like a pie-eating sap straight from the city in that hat- he hadn’t even taken the time to curl the brim. Shop-bought style didn’t help in a town like this; it simply marked you out as a dude.   
They turned the corner, and Heyes stopped dead. The hotel was about fifty yards away, but Harry had only been a few feet in front of them, and he had disappeared.   
“Mr. Heyes...” Abigail dropped his arm and was sidling towards the nearby alley. “Harry didn’t have time to make it to the hotel,” she hissed.  
“Get to the hotel!” Heyes whispered.  
Abigail’s chin set defiantly. “Not on your life, you go – you’re the one on parole.”  
“Get help then,” Heyes pushed her over to the next boardwalk where a restaurant provided reassuring lights. He tossed the bags towards her. “Go!” Without another word he disappeared into the shadows of the alley.  
It didn’t take long before he heard the scuffling along with the sickening thud of a hard fist on soft flesh. Painful grunts cut through the night and Heyes’ worst fears were confirmed. He quietly slid his gun out of his holster and slunk forward, allowing his eyes to adjust to the light.  
There were two of them, and they were now crouched over the prostate figure on the ground, snickering drunkenly. Heyes smiled in satisfaction; they were in a bad position, with their hands full of victim and their guts full of whiskey. This should be easy enough.  
“Get your hands up where I can see them,” barked Heyes, stepping forward. The pair shuffled back, stumbling and floundering away from their mark. “And drop your weapons. Harry, are you alright?”  
Heyes blood ran cold at the sound of a metallic click beside his head. “No, you drop it. Ya don’t think I’d let my brothers work without back up do ya?”  
Heyes stomach turned over at hearing another gun cock, followed by a familiar female voice. “Right back at ya! You don’t think he’d come down here without backup either, do you?”  
The man’s voice rang with surprise. “A woman! With a gun?”  
“Well... yes. A woman can accomplish much more with soft words and a gun than she can with soft words alone; but let’s face it – we both know a woman’s hand on a trigger makes you a whole lot more nervous than a man’s. I like that.”   
Heyes’ hackles rose in anger as he could almost feel Abigail smiling benignly through the darkness. Why wouldn’t she ever do what she was told?   
“Want to take a chance?” Abigail murmured.   
The stranger pulled himself up to his full height. “I otta...”  
“Oh, please! Don’t start me on what you ought to do. I’d start on your bathing regime – a skunk with a cold could find you in the dark.” Abigail’s voice hardened. “Up against the wall, hands where I can see them, or I shoot. I’m not a patient woman.” They both heard the clunk of the man’s gun drop in the dirt. “Mr. Heyes, can you get that and keep them all covered while I put handcuffs on this one?”  
“Handcuffs? Where did you get handcuffs?” snapped Heyes, retrieving the weapon.  
“The Pinkerton Agency, where do you think?”  
“Pinkertons?” gasped one of the men close to Heyes.  
“You made such a mistake with this one; robbing detectives? Just plain stupid,” Abigail pushed the man’s jaw into the wooden cladding, dragging one hand behind his back and clicking a manacle around his wrist. “Other arm...” She clicked the handcuffs into place. “You two, pick Harry up. It’s only right you should carry the man you hurt. Where’s the sheriff’s office?”  
“You’re takin’ us to the law?” whined one of Harry’s assailants.  
“You’d better believe it,” growled Heyes, “make one false move and I’ll shoot you in the knee.”  
Abigail pulled her prisoner out into the street, grasping him by the collar and holding a gun to his head. Heyes frowned. “A colt? Don’t you even use a Derringer anymore.”  
The man in Abigail’s custody glanced around nervously. “When the situation calls for it, but – these bottom-feeders,” Abigail shook the man’s head back to the front, “need a repeating weapon.”  
“What’d she just call us?” grumbled the smallest robber.  
“Right you three - walk,” Heyes barked. His gaze slid over to Abigail, “and once we’ve handed these over to the law, I’m gonna strangle you. I sent you to get help, not to turn into Buffalo Bill. You can’t do this stuff anymore. You’re a mother.”

Daniel Sheehan stood as the little group shuffled through the door of his office, his bright-blue eyes narrowing at the sight of the woman holding a gun to a man’s head. “Clay Short? What’ve you been up to now?” He watched the others prop up a battered and bleeding man and shook his head. “You can lower your weapons, folks. The Short brothers ain’t gonna fight me, or my deputy. They know better.”  
A battered and bruised Harry was lowered into a chair and offered a restorative cup of coffee before Sheehan flicked a look at the young blond deputy. “Luke, lock them up then go and fetch the doc for this fella, will ya?”  
“May I have my handcuffs back?” asked Abigail.  
“Your handcuffs?” Sheehan’s dark eyebrows gathered in a knot of curiosity, pinning the young woman with intense scrutiny. “Now, where would a little lady like you get a pair of handcuffs?”  
“From Robert Pinkerton,” Abigail replied, sweetly. “He also gave me this gun.” She tucked her Colt into a large pocket inside her coat.   
Sheehan perched on the edge of his desk, drinking in the trio. “What exactly has gone on here?”   
Heyes hesitated, unwilling to give his name to the law, but Harry shook himself back to reality and cut in. “My name’s Harry Briscoe, I’m a Bannerman detective. These fellas dragged me into an alley and kicked the...” He paused and glanced at Abigail before choosing a more delicate turn of phrase. “they assaulted me, they were robbing me when these folks helped.”  
Sheehan gave a snort. “And these folks, who just happened to be behind you, are equipped by Robert Pinkerton? Do I look like I’ve just wandered in here on my way to Sunday school?”   
“We have no intention of misleading you, Mr Sheehan. My name is Abigail Stewart, and I worked as a Pinkerton agent for many years. I am assisting this gentlemen with the blessing of the Agency as they need a woman’s assistance, but they no longer formally employ female agents,” she indicated over to Heyes. “Another Pinkerton Agent, Micajah Attwater will be arriving soon. Both the Bannerman Agency and the Pinkerton Agency have been separately commissioned to find a corrupt official who has now gone on the run. He is implicated in murder, attempted murder, and for complicity in an escape from the Wyoming territorial Prison. We have reason to believe he has come to Joplin. We just arrived in town when we saw Mr. Briscoe being dragged into the alley. We would have informed you we were in town, but events overtook us. We weren’t going to stand back and allow him to be robbed and assaulted. We know him; our paths have crossed many times in this investigation.”  
Sheehan’s brow creased as he considered this information before his face split into a grin. “Do you have identification?”  
“Of course we do,” Abigail bluffed, bustling over to Harry and crouching down to attend to his cut. “Do you have some water and I’ll get Harry cleaned up a bit?”  
“Sure,” Sheehan nodded, strolling over to the pot bellied stove and putting on a pan of water to boil.  
“Here’s my identification,” Harry dropped his wallet on the desk. “Ow! Will you stop poking at it, Abi?”  
“I’m only trying to help,” Abigail protested.  
“I told her to get help from the restaurant, sheriff,” Heyes scowled at Abigail. “She’s a liability. She followed me down the alley! What can you do with a woman like that?”  
“Yeah?” Sheehan’s grin widened, sensing a simmering dispute with the glee of someone able to remain as a casual bystander.  
“What she hasn’t told you is that we’re married,” Heyes glowered at Abigail. “You are a mother! You can’t do risky things like that anymore.”  
“Oh? So it’s alright for her father?” Abigail retorted.  
Heyes put his hands on his hips. “You are here to mix with the women and pick up titbits and confidences, not as a hired gun.”  
“Don’t you tell me what I’m here for, Toll-tòine!”  
Heyes simmered with irritation. “Stop that! You always do that. At least argue in English. What the hell does that mean anyway?”   
“Guess – and you’d be spot on – or in, depending on where I shove your head!”  
“Enough!” chortled Sheehan. “So you’re married, I definitely got that.” He dropped a hand on Heyes shoulder. “You ain’t gonna win this, give it up, son. I’ve got one like that at home. It’s like tryin’ to tie a knot in the wind – but I’ve gotta say I’ve had years of fun givin’ it a go. One thing you’re not going to be is bored.” He smiled around the group. “Coffee? Then you can tell me all about this character you’re after. Ah, the water’s warm too.”  
“My hat?” Harry looked around anxiously. “Has anybody seen my new hat?”   
Heyes was suddenly hit with the realisation that Harry’s fine new hat was not all that was missing. “And our bags? Where are they, Abi?”  
“I hid them in the alley. I’m sure they’ll be fine.”  
Heyes gave a huff of exasperation. “Mr. Sheehan, do you mind if I retrieve our baggage before we end up reporting a theft too.” He glowered at Abigail. “I’ll leave her here as a hostage, but if you can get anything for her, you’re welcome to take it. Jerky would be a fair exchange, it’s about as easy to swallow.”

Daniel Sheehan looked down at the telegram and gave a wry smile. “You check out, ma’am. Don’t think it escaped my notice that you prevaricated when I asked for identification. I got my deputy to send a telegram to the Pinkerton agency.”  
Abigail sat back on the chair her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Very astute, Mr. Sheehan, but we are telling you the truth. I worked for Alan Pinkerton for eight years, of course I had to leave when I had a family, and that was before his son Robert got rid of all the women; but I really was an agent, and at least one more will be arriving soon.”  
Sheehan nodded. “Mr. Attwater, he’s on his way apparently.”  
“Good. I think Robert Pinkerton lost a lot of skills when he got rid of the women,” Abigail shrugged, “but his wife had a real thing about him working with women.”  
“She probably felt that way because of his father’s relationship with one particular agent. Wasn’t one even buried next to his family plot?” Sheehan sat back and propped his feet on the desk. “We do hear all kinds of things, even all the way out in Joplin.”   
Abigail arched her eyebrows. “We didn’t all live that way, Mr. Sheehan. Please don’t make the mistake of putting me in that box because of rumours you may have heard.”  
“I wouldn’t dare, Mrs. Stewart. I think that husband of yours would shoot me.”  
“I think I’m in his sights right now. I don’t think he’s too happy with me.”  
Sheehan swung back on his chair. “He was upset, is all. He probably thought you were well out of this life. Why did he allow you to do this?”  
Abigail gave an indignant snort. “Allow? I take it your wife’s not really Irish?”  
Sheehan grinned. “Yup, a Cork woman, so I take your point.” He paused. “Why hasn’t anyone told me that this man may be in the area? Surely there’s a U.S. Marshal on his trail.”  
Abigail shrugged. “Probably, but we haven’t been privy to that information. The Pinkertons are involved because of an attempt to murder a mother and child in Topeka, and the Bannermans because of a young woman who was shot in the throat in Colorado.”  
Sheehan’s brow wrinkled before he swore in Irish. He darted sheepish eyes up to Abigail, aware that she probably understood him. “Sorry... a woman shot in the throat? A child? Why?”  
“The woman in Colorado gave evidence against him at a hearing, and the mother and child were related to another witness at the same hearing, but we don’t know the motive for sure. Revenge seems to be the most obvious motive, but he may be acting along with others as part of a larger conspiracy. I would contact the U.S. Marshal’s service to ask them for information, sheriff. One of the victims was an agent’s family, Mr. Sheehan, and we need to look after our own. We don’t care who brings him in, but he must be caught.”   
Sheehan nodded knowingly. “I take it you’re supposed to mix with women who may know what he’s really up to?”  
“That’s the general idea. I could have done without this introduction to the town, but we couldn’t stand by and let Harry be beaten up and robbed.” She sat forward and fixed him with a determined look. “I want you to know, we have no interest in spiriting this man out of your jurisdiction, Mr. Sheehan; we want him in the nearest possible jail and facing a court. We really would appreciate any help you can give us.”   
“Just one question,” Sheehan steepled his fingers thoughtfully in front of him. “If you know Harry so well, why wasn’t he with you? Why was he on his own?”  
Abigail grinned. She was warming to this intelligent man and was happy to answer his thoughtful questions. “Spend some time with him, sheriff, and you’ll soon understand. Harry can be a bit... annoying, and competitive. We sat with him on the train and had enough, so we hung back. That said; we’re not going to let him be attacked.”  
They both turned to sound of the door opening. Abigail gave Heyes a sheepish smile. “Have you forgiven me yet?”  
He frowned. “Let’s just say I’ve calmed down, you’ve gotta stop going into dangerous situations, Abi, my heart won’t take it.”  
“Did you find the bags?”  
Heyes nodded. “And Harry’s hat’s broken in – well, mostly just broken, but we found it. He’s back at the hotel, sleeping off whatever the doc gave him for the pain. Let’s go, I booked us a room.”  
Abigail stood. “We’ll probably be in touch tomorrow sheriff, once we find out about our colleague. I think he’d like to meet you.”  
“And I look forward to meeting him, Mrs. Stewart,” he nodded towards Heyes, “Mr. Stewart... or whatever your names really are.”  
Abigail and Heyes exchanged a look. “What do you mean by that?”  
“Somethin’ and nothin’, just instinct,” the lawman twinkled perceptive blue eyes at them. “You haven’t told me everything. I’m only letting you know I’m aware of that. I like to be straight with folks wherever I can.”  
Heyes gave a dimpled smile. “So do I, sheriff -wherever I can.”   
   
The Kid stepped down from the train, beaming widely at the small welcoming party.  He shook Harry’s hand, frowning at the cut above his eye, and bruises and grazes on his face and knuckles.  “You been courtin’ women with good vision, Harry?”  
“This town’s as rough as a porcupine’s backside, Kid.”  Harry smiled ruefully.  “I got turned over on the way to the hotel last night.”    
Heyes and the kid fell into a back-slapping man-hug.  “Where were you?”  
“Behind him.  Abi and I were trying to pretend were didn’t know him.  That didn’t last long.”  Heyes gave Abigail a hard glare, “and she got right in the middle of it.”  
 “Yeah?  You didn’t get hurt again, did you, Abi?”  
She shook her head.  “No, of course not.  He just doesn’t seem to get the fact that he’s on parole.  You can’t go running off and indulging in gun-play, Mr. Heyes.  You could end up back inside, and in any case, it’s a good job I did.  They had back up.”  
The Kid’s blue eyes widened in query.  “Yeah?”      
“Yes,” Abigail confirmed, “and he got the drop on Mr. Heyes for a few seconds.  We had to take the lot of them over to the jail.”  She shrugged.  “So much for keeping a low profile.”  
“Well Beth and Belle send their love,” the Kid embraced Abigail, dropping a kiss on her cheek.  “And that’s from Anya.”  
“Nothing for me?”  Heyes looked slightly crestfallen.  
“Heyes, I ain't kissin’ you - not for a pension, besides, she doesn’t know her ma’s with Uncle Han.”  
“I guess,” Heyes mumbled.    
“I’ll bet you’re hungry after that long journey,” Abigail slipped a hand through the Kid’s arm.  “We found a good restaurant.  We’ll drop your bags off and get some lunch.  Then I want to hear everything that went on back at Mayzee’s.”  
Visions of Beth in his arms, discussing birth control flashed through his mind.  “Everything?  Well, let me see...”  
   
 The Kid pushed away his plate and settled back in his chair, casually watching the toings and froings of the respectable folks of Joplin.  “So, what’s the plan?”  
Abigail shared a secretive glance with Heyes.  “I have to get the banks checked, to see if he’s deposited his savings for safekeeping.”  
“So you’ll want me to get that officially?” Harry asked.  
“Not yet, let me narrow down the field so we can get you to ask for very specific information,” Abigail toyed with her glass of water and smiled at Harry.  
Harry’s brows gathered.  “How are you gonna do that, Abi?”   
“Just some old fashioned detective work, Harry,” the Kid shared a look with Heyes, not buying the ‘old fashioned detective work’ claim for a second.  “We can’t leave you to do all the work, when I’m also a trained detective, can we?” Abigail asked, casually.  She patted Harry’s hand.  “Besides, you’re recuperating.”  
“What am I supposed to do?”       
Abigail shrugged.  “How about you three frequenting  a few of the local establishments to see what you can discreetly find out about Charles Anderson.  The brothel maybe?”      
The Kid sat bolt upright.  “Abi!  You’re not seriously thinking of sending your man off to a brothel?  What kind of woman are you?”  
“A detective, that’s what,” she pursed her lips indignantly.  “He doesn’t have to do anything.”  
“Abi, you know nothing about places like that.  You can’t go in and not...” Harry groped around for the right expression, “sample their wares.”  
Abigail’s lips firmed into a line.  “You seem to be able to manage it, as I remember.  When we were trailing Carson all you got was a face full of snow.”  
“You put me off,” Harry blustered.  “A respectable woman doesn’t go into places like that.”  
“A good detective has no business acting like a parson,” Abigail frowned.  “No, bad example, I’ve seen plenty of them in places like that.  Like a matron teaching Sunday School.  There’s hope for you yet, Harry.  Purity doesn’t exactly ooze from your pores.”     
“Very funny, but the Kid has a point.  You’ll let Heyes go to a brothel with your blessing?”  Harry’s brow crinkled.  “Are you mad?”  
“Probably, but I’m sending him for information, not pleasures of the flesh.  Your flesh is yours to do with as you will, Harry.”  
“Mores the pity,” Harry muttered.  
The Kid shuffled uncomfortably in his seat, wondering how to broach this subject.  “I ain’t happy goin’ to a brothel, Abi.  I promised Beth.”     
“You did?” exclaimed Abigail.  
The Kid stared into Abigail’s impressed eyes before scowling at Harry’s grin.  “Yeah, I did.”  He folded his arms and pointed pugnacious elbows at Harry.  “And I ain’t gonna let her down.”  
“Well, you can go to the saloon, can’t you?  You can cover the male areas; I can speak to Sheriff Sheehan and then try places like the general store.”  
The Kid turned contrite blue eyes on Abigail.  “Yeah, I’m sorry, Abi, but I like to keep my word.”    
“Don’t be, Jed, you have my respect.  I have limits too,” she smiled warmly.  “I won’t just do anything for information, you know.”  
“I never thought I’d see the day Kid Curry was scared to walk into a brothel,” chuckled Harry.  
Deep-blue eyes glowered at the detective.  “I ain’t scared, I just gave my word.  If you can ever get a woman, and keep her without using handcuffs, you might understand what that means.”  
Abigail leaped to her feet, her eyes fixed on a woman across the street.  “Julia Stanton!”  
“Huh?  Where?”  
All eyes peered through the window of the restaurant at the dowdy woman wearing a veiled hat on the opposite boardwalk.  “How can you tell?” Heyes screwed up his face, trying to focus as closely as possible on the face beneath the veil.  
“That umbrella, the handle is carved and painted like a duck’s head.  Her husband did it when they were engaged, she told me.”  
The Kid shook his head reluctantly.  “I dunno, Abi, a duck’s head is a common enough handle, and you can’t see her face or even her hair colour.”  
“It’s her.  I recognise the purse too.  Those brown fringes are very distinctive.”  Abigail grabbed her coat.  “It’s a basic mistake, forgetting to change distinctive details like that, but covering your face.  I’m going to follow her.  Pay the bill and get after me.”  
Heyes grabbed his hat.  “Right behind you, Abi.”    
The Kid stood gesturing to the waitress for the bill.  She bustled over and laid it on the table.  “Sorry, ma’am, we’re in a hurry.  The Kid tossed it towards Harry.  “And don’t forget to leave a tip.”

 Julia Stanton clattered down the sidewalk, her head a maelstrom of anguish and business.  All those people had disappeared on the night of the explosions, leaving nothing behind other than some odd-looking fish bobbing around in a bathtub, and a group of disappointed gamblers rumbling and grumbling in the hotel lobby.  That detective with the twitchy moustache had vanished at the same time, so they had to be connected somehow – she just couldn’t work out how.  There had been the woman, and everyone knew there were no law women.  That left one option – a personal vendetta.  Somebody hated Uncle George and he had to be warned.  
She stopped at the crossroads, her frown imperceptible beneath the veil as she turned and glanced around.  Her hazel eyes scanned the streets.  Nothing.  Satisfied, she took a deep breath and turned right.  Not too far now, Uncle George had taken refuge at a rundown, little building on the edge of town owned by a cousin.  It was reputed to be in a state as it had been let out to vagrant zinc miners since he’d inherited it five years ago.  Julia shuddered - Uncle George had been a hard-working and respectable man, living in a lovely home with a housekeeper, a piano and gas lights.  What was the world coming to when a pillar of society was reduced to living like some kind of hobbledehoy?  
Her eyes darted nervously from side to side.  This was a terrible neighbourhood, with all kinds of vagabonds and ne’er-do-wells in ragged clothes leaning on street corners.  Her breath started to come more rapidly, no longer as worried about being followed as she was about being accosted, until the building came into view.  It was shabby and rundown, its appearance far less comforting than its proximity, but it sat across the dirt road beside the familiar ramshackle outhouses.  She had arrived at last.  
Her knock was answered by the scowling face of Uncle George.  She chortled with relief, suddenly realising that he would not recognize her, shrouded by the veil.  She tugged it aside.  “It’s me, Uncle George – Julia.”  
The man’s lips curled into a snarl.  “Julia!?  What’re you doing here?”  He grasped her wrist and dragged her into the building.  “You damned fool!  What’re you thinking coming here, they’ll have followed you.”  
She shook her head.  “No, Uncle George.  I was really careful, nobody followed me.”  She dropped her hat on the table, glancing around the hovel with distaste.  “Oh, my, we really must find you somewhere better than this.”  
“Why the hell are you here?”  Mitchell strode over to the window, flattening himself against the wall and looking out at the road.  “We agreed on a method of contact.”  
“I had to see you.”  Julia plunked herself on a chair and leaned on the table.  “A detective was in town looking for you, and he said the most dreadful things.  He said you were stealing money from the prison.  You’d never do anything like that, would you?”     
Mitchell gave an impatient snort and returned to the window.  
“I mean,” Julia continued, “I did ask you by telegram, but you didn’t respond.”  She tapped her fingers impatiently on the table, waiting for her Uncle’s attention.  “You wouldn’t do that, would you?”  
Mitchell frowned.  “Of course I wouldn’t.  They’re lies, put about by my enemies to get the law to find me for them.  While they’re investigating these stupid claims, I’ll be a sitting duck.”  
“But surely the books would easily show...”  
“Julia!”  She jumped at the unexpected yell which cut through her psyche.  “Will you shut up?  You know nothing about this, or the kind of people I dealt with for half of my life.”  
Julia turned injured eyes on her uncle.  “I’m trying to help you.  Ed and I found you this place.”  
“This bu**hole?  Prisoners live better than this.”  He started out of the window and sucked in a breath.  He turned a pale, angry face on his niece.  “Kid Curry!  You led them right here, you stupid bitch.”  
“That’s enough!  I’ve been more than patient about your profanities,” Julia leaped to her feet.  “Don’t speak to me like that!”    
She walked over to the window, only to be dragged roughly away by Mitchell.  “Do you want that foolish head blown off?  Get down.”  
She peered cautiously out of the corner, biting her lip at the sight of the man taking up position behind a horse trough outside.  “It’s him.  He’s behind all of this?”  She slid down the wall landing on the floor with stinging tears streaming down her face.  “Why won’t that man leave me alone?  Kid Curry’s haunted me all my life, and now he’s here for you.”  
“Because you brought him here, you dumb fool.  Why couldn’t you do what you were told?”  He advanced on her, fear spiralling in her heart at the hand raised like a club and the spittle of hatred hitting her cheek.  “You never could mind your own business, could you?”  
She scuttled backwards, out of range, her heart thumping in alarm.  “He didn’t follow me, it’s just a coincidence!”  
“Coincidence?  You pitch up here and you expect me to believe it’s just a coincidence?”  
“I’d have seen him, if he was following me, Uncle George.  Truly I would!”       
Mitchell turned away with a growl, and rooted around in a cupboard.  He placed boxes of ammunition on the table and flicked open his gun.  “Lock the back door.”  
Julia nodded, shocked by this sudden change in her Uncle George.  He had always been so charming and sweet.  “Sure.”  
“And get back over here.  I need you to take this other gun.”  
“A gun!?  I can’t fire a gun!  What are you thinking?”  The back door on this property consisted of no more than a wooden bar placed into brackets, and Julia quickly slotted it in place.  
“You can hold them off while I try to get out of here.”  Mitchell strode over to the back window.  “Damn!  So help me, Julia, when I get outta this I’m going to make you pay.  This is all your fault.”  
“Hold them off?  I’m not firing a gun at Kid Curry.  I’m a mother!”  
“You should’ve thought about that when you came to me and asked me to punish Heyes.”  
Julia’s eyes widened.  “I wanted to hurt Kid Curry, not Hannibal Heyes.  I don’t care a jot about him.  We both know you did that because you were being paid – and paid well!  That was nothing to do with me.”  
Mitchell laughed derisively, peeking out of the window, carefully noting Heyes’ hiding place behind the well.  “Don’t act the innocent with me.  You were positively joyful every time I told you just how near death Heyes was, and how much that was hurting Curry.”  
“It was the only way I could get to Curry at all!  How can a housewife take on a gunman? He’s evil!”  
“Yeah?”  Mitchell stomped back to the front window, “he went for the person responsible for killing his folks.  You went for his fiancé, I’d say evil is as evil does.”  
Julia pursed her lips angrily.  “What do you mean by that?”  
“I mean, you’d be dead a long time if he was as bad as you are, so don’t pull all that ‘I’m an innocent mother’ crap with me.  You’re a killer; mean, selfish and burning with revenge – just like your pa.  Grab a gun, you’re in this up to your neck.”  
“My father was NOT a killer – he was a soldier!”  
“Grow up, Julia.  Your pa and his brothers didn’t go after the Curry's and the Heyes' because of any war.  They were part of the underground railroad and they helped slaves we owned to escape.  It was revenge, pure and simple – and a warning to any other fools in the neighbourhood not to come between the Mitchell's and their property!”      
Julia blanched.  “That’s not what he told me.”  
Mitchell shook his head dismissively.  “Take a gun, but be careful not to shoot Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny.  After all, we know that daddy never told you anything but the truth, huh?”  Mitchell’s eyes narrowed.  “The Curry's and Heyes' were always a sanctimonious bunch of trouble makers.  Losing those slaves was the beginning of the end for our family.  We were staring to get some real wealth behind us and then those damn bleeding hearts started meddling in our affairs.  We owned half the county between us.”  He cast out an arm to the broken-down cabin.  “And now look at what we’ve got!  My pa took me to hear Heyes’ pa speak at a meeting – what a pecksniffian, holier-than-thou, bastard he was.  We couldn’t work the land without slaves, so we had to sell it after the war for a fraction of the value.  I looked Heyes in the eye in that prison and saw the exact same arrogance as his pa.  I was happy to break him, even without the money.”    
“I can’t get involved in a shootout!” cried Julia.  “I can’t go to prison.  What about little Edward?”  
“You’re useless, you bring this on my head, and then wilt?” roared Mitchell.  His eyes darted around the cabin.  “I need a plan.  I’m not going to hang.”  
“Nobody died yet,” Julia whined, “it’s not a capital offence to plot and fail.”  
“There’s a bigger backer – and you know it!  My head’s in the noose from that, and you come here wittering about the prison books, bringing Kid Curry with you on your skirts-tails!?  I knew you were naive, but I didn’t take you for a complete f*ckwit!  It suited you to get drawn into this group for revenge: I did it for money and pleasure.”  Mitchell leaned close to Julia’s face, watching her pupils dilate with fear.  “When a group of folks plan a crime together, the law doesn’t split it up.  They call it conspiracy and we’re all in this together.  They don’t care if none of your targets died, other people did.”  He grabbed her wrist.  “Now, fold those ears back and listen well.  We’ve still got a chance, if you can distract them while I get away.  We can’t beat Heyes and Curry in a gun battle.  I get away and you’re just visiting somebody.”  
“Distract them?  How?”  
“Go outside, if anyone stops you, and they will, tell them you were visiting an old relative who’s not here.  Tell them you came to see Bert – he owns this place, they’ll have to buy it.  While you’re arguing with them I’ll sneak out the back.”  
Julia shook her head hopelessly.  “I can’t.  Kid Curry’s out there.  I can’t face him, what if he guesses?  He’ll kill me.”  
“You should’ve thought about that before you persuaded me to get somebody to put a bullet in his fiancé.  That was your idea and I warn you, Julia, if I’m going down I’m taking you with me.”  
Her glittering eyes filled with tears again.  “I can’t walk out there and face Kid Curry, Uncle George.  We’ll have to think of something else.  Can’t you hide under the floor boards?  They look pretty loose... and I can sneak out the back?”  
Mitchell gave a snort of exasperation.  “All that hate and bluster doesn’t come to much when some backbone is needed, does it, Julia?  It’s easy to hit out when you don’t have to look them in the eye, but sometimes you need to see things through.”  He lifted the oil lamp, scattering the paraffin over the floor and sticks of furniture, taking care to cover the doors and window before leaving a large pool near the table.  “It looks like I’ll have to take more drastic action.”  
“Drastic?  In what way?”  
“A fire, Julia.  This is the distraction they need.  Once it takes hold they’ll be too busy dealing with that to notice somebody slipping away.  I’ll leave the back door unlocked, and slip out while they’re rescuing you.”  
“But that’s dangerous!” Julia exclaimed.  
“It got dangerous the minute you stopped listening  to people more experienced, and started following what passes for thought in that rat’s nest of a brain of yours.”  He gave her a hard stare before picking up a tin box.  “Naive, idealistic people are useful as cannon fodder.  They’re the kind who’ll ride off on a suicide mission.  You’re not even good for that.”  
Julia slumped into a chair and dropped her head into her hands.  “Why are you being so horrible to me, Uncle George?”  
“Because I’ll be lucky to see this day out, thanks to you!” barked Mitchell.  
He opened the tin box and took out the flint and blade.  “One spark is all it’ll need.  Then we wait.”  
“For what?”  
“For it to take hold.  Then you start screaming.  They’ll be too busy trying to rescue the damsel in distress to look too hard for me.”  He dashed the blade against the flint and watched the brilliance of the sparks which danced and flared over the fuel, growing in heat and incandescence, flaming and burning anything and everything in their path.  Julia’s hands leaped to her mouth, her eyes widening in horror at the fire consuming the building.  The old, timber building cracked and hissed as the heat forced out the last remaining vestiges of moisture from the wood, the flickering flares licking over every surface, consuming everything in their path.    
“Oh, God, get me out of here!”  Julia ran towards the door, stopping in her tracks at the wall of flames between her and escape.  She glanced around, desperately trying to identify a way out from the mounting heat and voracious, searing flames; her heart sang at the sight of Mitchell unblocking the back door.  She ran for it; panic spiralling in her heart at the scorching conflagration charring the little hairs on her flesh.  
“Not so fast, Julia.”  Mitchell stood behind the door, his gun drawn.  “You’re a liability, and I have absolutely no doubt you’ll sing like a bird.  You’ll tell them where I’m going and who else is involved, and without them I have no future – none at all.  They’ll look after me, because they have to.  They’re too powerful to just disappear.”  He tilted his head, an unsavoury smile playing over his lips.  “Sorry, darling – but a choice between you or me is no choice at all.”  
                          
      
The Kid was already running towards the burning building when two shots cut through the air.  Smoke poured from the broken window, and the alight tattered curtains flapped in the breeze, spreading the blaze to the shingled roof.    
The screams were the stuff of nightmare; the agonized, shrill wails of a wretched soul in agony.  The howls were beyond words in their eloquence, speaking of despair, agony, and hopelessness, and cut into the psyche like fingernails down a blackboard.    
“What’s going on?” Sheehan arrived beside Abigail just as the Kid kicked in the door.  Flames surged from the portal, as he ducked, throwing up an arm to protect his face from the blast.  “Newman!  Help him!  Dear God!  There’s somebody in there.”  
“We were having lunch when the woman we had been watching in Jacksonville walked passed,” Abigail ducked at the remaining glass shattering with the heat.  “She went in there.”  
Sheehan watched the Kid wrap his sheepskin jacket around his head, edging forward to fight his way through the holocaust, while Abigail joined the human chain ferrying buckets and pans of water from the well to the burning building.   Horrified eyes met in an unspoken conversation at the shrieking from the inferno; they had become shriller, transforming into a terrifying clamour reaching a sickening crescendo.  Abigail’s blood ran cold: it was no longer human, the sounds were of an animal begging for death and release from the engulfing agony.  “No!” she muttered, “please let it end.”  
“Amen to that, lady.”  The burly man next to her thrust a bucket of water into her hands.  “I ain’t never heard anythin’ like it in my life, and I pray to God that I never hear it again as long as I live.”  
 Sheehan ran around to the back of the building.  The back door was already open, and black, caustic smoke poured out, tainting the clean air.  He wrapped his bandana around his face and made his way into the murk, stepping back as Heyes fought his way back to daylight before collapsing on the ground on all fours.  Heyes wiped the stinging smoke from his reddened eyes, his back arching against the retching, hacking cough.  He turned hopeless eyes up to Sheehan.  “I got in through the back door.  I couldn’t see her,” he barked up more grime and mucus.  “I could hear her, though.  Then it went quiet.  It’s pure hell in there.  She’s gone...”  
“She got out?” Sheehan demanded.  
Heyes rolled onto his back, staring up at the sky.  “She’s dead, Sheriff.  Nobody could survive that heat.  She’d be burned alive”          
“Heyes!”  
Heyes propped himself up, turning his blackened face to the Kid.  “I tried, Kid.  I tried to get to her,” he dropped his head into his hands, tears streaking the soot.  “She must be dead.  I got so far in, and I was beaten back by the flames.”  
Sheehan frowned.  “Heyes?  I thought your name was Stewart.”  
Heyes gulped deeply and dropped back onto the grass.  “Not now, Sheriff.  I really can’t deal with that right now.” 

 “I never said his name was Stewart, Mr. Sheehan.  I said mine was,” Abigail gave the sheriff her most beguiling smile.  “I deliberately omitted his name altogether.”  
Sheehan picked up a pen, staring at the people assembled in his office in turn.  “Who are you folks?”  
“My name is Jedidiah Curry.”  
“And mine is Hannibal Heyes.”  
Daniel Sheehan dropped his pen.  “Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry?”  He glared at Abigail.  “Why’re you lying about who these fellas are – more to the point, why did the Pinkerton Agency cover for Heyes when I checked you out?  Are you who you say you are, or do I have to lock you all up until I find out?”  
Abigail shrugged.  “Lock us up if you like.  I’m telling you the truth.  I am working for Robert Pinkerton to assist with the investigation.  Mr. Attwater is arriving on the one o’clock train, and he will have papers on him.  He had to go and deal with some other matters relating to this investigation.”     
“And them?”  Sheehan arched his eyebrows and nodded towards Heyes and Curry.    
“Mr. Curry was given amnesty and is free to go where ever he pleases.  Mr. Heyes is on parole, and is currently in the charge of Mr. Briscoe, until Cage Attwater gets back, responsibility will then return to Mr. Attwater.”  
Sheehan glanced at Harry who smiled amiably at the sheriff.  “That’s right, Sheriff.  It’s all been cleared.”  
Sheehan’s eyes narrowed.  “Why’d you lie, ma’am?”  
“I didn’t lie,” Abigail replied.  “I just didn’t tell you.”  
“That’s lying by omission, and you know it.”  
Abigail sat down opposite the sheriff and laid her hands on the table in a businesslike manner.  “Only if the question was asked, and it wasn’t.  The people who have been targeted with a view to murder are Hannibal Heyes' daughter and Jed Curry’s fiancé.  Somebody is waging a vendetta against people connected to them, and they are assisting us in identifying the suspects.  George Mitchell was Julia Stanton’s uncle and we had been targeting her as we suspected she was helping a suspect to evade justice.  We found that she had been telegraphing a Charles Anderson in Joplin and came here to see if he was Mitchell living under an assumed name.  We did not expect to see her at all, but she walked passed the restaurant where we were having lunch.  We followed her, and you know the rest.”  
Sheehan leaned forward.  “How do you know they’re just not here on their own vendetta?”  
Abigail’s eyes warmed, she loved a debate.  “Why would they hire Bannerman agents and get the Pinkertons involved?”  
“To find their enemies for them?” Sheehan pressed.  
“Telegraph Sheriff Jacobs in their home town.  He’ll confirm that the authorities have asked them to assist, and not the other way around.  The terms of Mr. Heyes' parole says that he must report to the local law office once a week, but he has been given permission to assist the investigation as long as he is escorted by an officer of the law.  We have met those conditions at all times.  Please also remember that we brought the men who attempted to rob Harry to your office, which somebody on a personal crusade would have been unlikely to do.”   
“So you and Heyes aren’t married?”   
Abigail shook her head.  “No, Mr. Sheehan.  I am a widow.  My husband died of natural causes.”  
“So what was all that about?” demanded the sheriff.  “He clearly said you were married, and you went right along with it.”  
“Mr. Heyes was very unhappy with me after I got involved in capturing the robbers.”  Abigail smiled softly.  “He is very protective of women, and I imagine he hoped you would tell me off too.  We also find that telling everyone who Mr. Heyes is causes more trouble than it’s worth.  It was an innocent conceit and I just went along with it.”       
Sheehan sat back pondering this information.  “Fine—for now. But as far as I'm concerned this is a violation of his parole terms. I don't like being lied to Mrs. Stewart—and I don't care how you want to sugar coat it; you lied to me.” He sent a rather scathing look over to Heyes. “I don't care who is officially responsible for you Mr. Heyes, as long as you're in my town you are under my jurisdiction and I should have been informed as to your identity as soon as you arrived here. You are this close to being thrown into my jail. The only thing saving you right now is the fact that both Pinkerton's and Bannerman's are vouching for you. But that will only go so far Mr. Heyes. You do one more thing that questions your validity and you will find yourself a guest of this establishment. Do we understand one another?”  
Heyes swallowed nervously and he felt all eyes upon him. Dammit! He was still being treated like a convict, his every move being scrutinized. He'd fallen so far since his days as the leader of the Devil's Hole gang and it stuck in his craw, having to kowtow to every lawman who pointed a finger at him. Still, he felt the pressure of his friends' expectations so he forced down his indignity and smiled disarmingly. “Yessir sheriff.” He placated the lawman. “I'll stay real law abiding. Don't want to cause any trouble.”  
“Good!” Sheehan practically shouted at him. Then he sighed and got his mind back to the business at hand and looked over to Abi again. “So, there were shots fired after she went in?”  
“We were watchin’ the building, sheriff,” the Kid fixed the lawman with earnest blue eyes.  “We were waitin’ to see who’d come out.  We saw the flames and ran to the building, then there were shots,” he shrugged helplessly, “we just couldn’t get her out.  The fire was out of control”  
Heyes ran a hand distractedly through his hair.  “I’ll never forget those screams to my dying day.  She must have been burned alive.”  
Abigail nodded.  “So the question remains, what happened in there?  A man opened the door – we got a glimpse of him.  Did he die too?  And was he Mitchell?”  
“We’ll find that out when the place cools down enough to search.”  Sheehan’s cool blue eyes scanned the room.  “I guess that fits; both with the reply from the Pinkertons, and what I saw when I got there.  Both you fellas tried real hard to get that lady out.”  The drifting gaze rested on Harry. “You, on the other hand, stood back and did nothing.”  
“I was paying the bill at the restaurant,” Harry protested.  “I’d just arrived.  You wouldn’t want us dodging the bill, would ya?”  
Sheehan flicked his eyes dismissively away from the Bannerman man.  “I guess I’d better get down there.  They’d have got the fire out by now.”  
Abigail leaped to her feet.  “I’m coming too.”  
Sheehan heaved a sigh.  “That offer to stick you in a cell still stands, Mrs. Stewart.”  
“Nonsense, Mr. Sheehan,” Abigail grinned.  “Have you been trained to forensically examine a scene?  In fact, I do believe I am the only one here who has!”  
Sheehan folded his arms.   “I know I’m gonna regret asking this, but what does that mean?”     
“We need every detail from that scene to tell us exactly what happened.”  
“We know what happened.  She burned to death.”  
Abigail nodded.  “Yes, but why didn’t she make any attempt to get out, and where is the man?”  
“She was cut off by the flames,” muttered Sheehan.  
“From the start?  That sounds unlikely.  Why wait until the flames took hold, and who fired the shots?  Can they be matched to a gun?  If so, we have someone alive at that scene.  Why didn’t they help her?”  
“And you can answers those questions by looking at a burned out building?”  
Abigail nodded.  “Sometimes - if you know what to look for.”  
Sheehan pinned Harry with a hard stare.  “Are you trained in any of this stuff?”    
“I could give it a try,” ventured Harry.  “How hard can it be?”  
Sheehan threw up his hands.  “Fine, Mrs. Stewart, come along in an advisory capacity, but you are only there under sufferance.  Got that?”  
   
“Dear God!”  Sheehan pulled back, holding a handkerchief over his nose.  “The smell.”  
Abigail nodded.  “Yes, you never forget the smell of a burnt body, but it’s not as bad as one which has been submerged in water for a while.  That’s just the worst.”  
The charred wreck of the building had been completely soaked, but what was left of the interior was covered in soot.  The still identifiable remains of collapsed furniture lay in amongst the ashes.  It never ceased to amaze Abigail how dark a burned out building became.  Her eyes adjusted to the light and she made her way gingerly into the building, testing each step before trusting the scorched floorboards with her weight.     
“How can you stand it?” Sheehan asked from the doorway.  
“You get used to it.  Get in here.”  She paused by the cadaver, hairless and blackened, the arms drawn up tight and bent at the elbows.  The legs were also pulled up, the clothing had been burned away by the fire, but the corset stays still lay around the body.  
“What’s she doing here?” demanded a figure from the doorway.    
“This is Mrs. Stewart,” Sheehan picked his way through the rubble towards Abigail.  “She was trained by the Pinkerton agency to examine crime scenes in some modern, scientific way.”  
“What’s to examine.  She was burned alive.  Do you want life pronounced extinct?”  
“Yes please, Doc.”  
The man nodded.  “She’s dead.  Really dead.  About as dead as anyone can be.”  
“Aren’t you coming in,” demanded Abigail.  
“In these shoes?”  The doctor looked at his watch.  “Death by immolation, timed at 12.47.  I’ll send the certificate over to your office.  Have we got a name for the victim?”  
Abigail nodded.  “Julia Stanton, aged thirty four.  She lived over at Jacksonville with her husband and son.  She arrived on the ten forty five train and made her way straight to this building.”  
The doctor gave a low whistle.  “She can tell all that just by looking at the body!?  She’s good.  You want to employ her, Sheehan.”  He turned on his heel, wandering away from the doorway.  “Modern science, huh?  I must get some books about that.”  
Sheehan and Abigail exchanged a smile.  “See that, the way the limbs are all shortened like that?  They call that the pugilistic posture.  That always happens when a body is burned.  The tendons shorten in the heat, and they can even break bones sometimes.”  
“Does that only happen when they’re burned alive?” asked Sheehan.  
“No.  We have to look at the lungs to see if smoke was inhaled for that, but it’s academic in this case because we heard her.”  She glanced at the metal skeleton of the spokes of the umbrella lying beside the table, noting that the duck head handle had been burned away.  “So is the identification, which is about the only fortunate thing I can think of in this case.  That can often be problematic in corpses disfigured to this degree.”  She gave a heavy sigh.  “At least we can spare her poor husband that ordeal.”  
She pulled out a hatpin, using it to delicately probe the leather-like flesh.  “No bullet wounds to the head,” she continued down the carcass, “the abdomen is a mess, we may have to cut her open.”  Abigail’s eyes widened.  “No.  Here they are.  One in the lower thigh and the other in the knee.  It would appear she was shot in both legs, which explains why she couldn’t get out.  Just imagine the horror of lying there, watching the fire come closer and closer and not being able to move.  What a devil!  He could have killed her to spare her from all of that, but no... he went for the legs.”  
Sheehan swore under his breath.  
“I couldn’t agree more, sheriff,” Abigail stood.  “She was facing the back door, and fell where she stood.”  She nodded thoughtfully.  “Yes.  I’d say she was facing her killer when she was shot, so he was at the back door.  It’s only an assumption, but I think he needed her to scream blue murder as a distraction.  There are no other bodies in here, so the killer slipped out the back door.”  
“Probably when your friend fought his way in and was blinded by the smoke.  He probably kept her here while the fire took hold too.”  
“Yes,” Abigail crouched again, pushing her hatpin into the wounds, “it comes out the other side, so the bullets are in this building somewhere, not in the body.”  She looked up at Sheehan.  “Can we get her moved so we can find them?  My guess is that they’ll be a match for Mitchell’s gun.”  
Sheehan nodded.  “Sure.  I’ve gotta say, you’ve been more use than I thought you’d be.  Up ‘till now, all I’d have done is count the bodies.”      
   
 Abigail lounged in her bath, pouring in generous amounts of the oil she had purchased in the pharmacy.  It was a pungent mixture of jasmine, rose, and Iris root; but she needed the strong aromatic notes to drive the smell of burning flesh and the stench of death from both her skin and her memory.  She stared aimlessly ahead before sinking below the surface, desperate for the cleansing to begin; but part of her knew that the memories lingered longer than the smell.  She didn’t remember every dead body she had ever seen, but they were filed somewhere in her mind, ready to loom up at weak moments.  
Apart from family, the first body had been a woman – she had been older than Abigail at that point, but she now knew she’d outlived her.  That one had been clinical; a cadaver on a mortuary slab, rather than in a building or a field - stripped of life, identity, and dignity.  That was when Abigail learned that she felt more for those left behind – they were still hurting, but the dead were beyond pain, and justice served the living just as well as the dead, but what about Ed Stanton?  How would it help him to find out they’d clutched a viper to their breasts because of family loyalty?         
She surfaced in a mass of gurgling bubbles and rubbed the slick oil over her flesh.  So Julia Stanton had been killed by Mitchell.  She must have had information he didn’t want to fall into their hands, otherwise he wouldn’t risk turning his own family against him – and they were a formidable force, as clannish as anything she’d seen in the highlands of Scotland.  Where the hell had he gone?  This investigation was one step forward and three back.    
Think Abigail, think!  He obviously had somewhere to go, and it meant he could do without his family.  Abroad?  Not Mexico – no, that didn’t feel right and she was very much a creature of instinct.  He would stay in the states and try to build a new life; but that took money, more than his life savings.  Somebody wealthy was involved in this.  
She lay back, shivering slightly.  Was the water really getting that cold?  It was time to get out.  She stood, reaching for a towel, patting at her skin to work in the fragrant oils, but something niggled with obstinate persistence at the back of her brain.  What was it?  What had she missed? 

The late winter sun was making the streets slushy by the time mid-afternoon rolled around. It was one of those days that looked as though it could have been a nice warm spring day but actually wasn't. There was still the chill of winter hanging from the roof tops and dripping from the leafless tree branches. It was cold; it was still winter.  
The cousins were being very cautious as they tucked in along the outside planking of the abandoned warehouse. They were both leaning back against the boards, their heavy breathing making itself apparent in the cold damp air. Despite their jackets they were both shivering slightly, their noses sniffling with the chill.

The broken down door into the warehouse stood gaping between them and Jed risked a subtle lean over to take a peak inside. Nothing. All was quiet. Heyes continued to lean back against the building, as he broke open his Schofield and checked the chamber one more time.

“What do ya' think?” Jed asked quietly. “That was him heading in here, wasn't it?”

“Can't think who else it would have been,” was Heyes' logical response. “There's nobody else around and we were following him.”

“Yeah.” Then Jed leaned back himself and though he knew exactly how many bullets he had in his Colt, he also broke it open and checked the chamber. “How do ya' want to do this?” he asked as he snapped his gun back together and held it at the ready.

Heyes thought about it for a moment, then with a deep breath he too swung around and took a quick look through the open doorway. Just as quickly he came back around again and leaned against the building for cover. It was just out of habit really, because if Mitchell knew they were there, bullets would not have had any problems coming through the debilitated wood of this large structure. Still, no shots came and our boys continued to breathe.

“Well,” Heyes surmised. “there's a lot of places in there he could hide.”

“Huh hmm.”

“But we can't just stand here and let him get away now.” Heyes swallowed, his throat suddenly tight. “Not after what he's just done.”

“Huh hmm.”

Heyes took another deep breath. “Okay,” he finally decided. “I think we should rush in, real fast and then I'll go to the right and you go to the left. There's plenty of cover in there and he won't have time to get a shot off before we can get behind something.”

“I donno Heyes,” Jed sounded sceptical. “Things don't usually go too well when we split up.”

“Well, yeah,” Heyes tentatively agreed. “But we're not really splitting up Kid. We're just going in two different directions.”

“Right,” Kid responded with a look and sounded even more sceptical. “Besides, how do you know he ain't just inside there and waitin' for us to show ourselves in this doorway?” 

“Well we've both taken a look in there and didn't draw any fire,” Heyes reasoned. “I bet he's already making his way towards the back of this warehouse so he can sneak out the other way.”

“You willing to bet our lives on that Heyes?”

“I'm willing to bet my life on the fact that Mitchell's a coward,” Heyes told him. “There's no way he's going to stick around for a face to face showdown with the two of us and no guards around to protect him.”

“Yeah...” Kid continued to be sceptical.

“C'mon Kid,” Heyes grinned, oozing charismatic persuasion. “we'll catch him in the classic pincher movement—get him trapped in a cross fire.”

“If he's still in the building.”

“Well yeah. If he's still in the building,” Heyes nodded agreement and then shrugged. “C'mon, let's GO!”

The two men made a simultaneous rush through the open doorway and, as suggested, instantly split up and dived for cover behind items of structural decay. They both hit the ground, sending up bellows of dust and wood chips and then lay silently in amongst the cobwebs, waiting for any sound that would indicate company.

All was quiet, except for the numerous birds who had been irritably flapped from their roosting perches high up by the ceiling. They all noisily took to wing and squawked their indignation to the two men below them who for some unfathomable reason had decided to invade their domain. Yowling and then the scrambling of feline claws on wood also let the boys know that they were not welcome.

Finally the dust settled, the birds returned to their roosts and the cat had disappeared into a secluded corner to lash its tail and silently seethe over its hunting being so disturbed. Kid wiped cob webs off his face and glanced back to where his partner was also brushing off his jacket and then taking a cautionary peek around the dusty two x four that was acting as part of his cover. He glanced over at the Kid and their eyes locked.

Jed silently asked the question. Heyes shrugged. Nothing appeared to be happening. Finally Heyes motioned for the Kid to move on around that side of the interior and Heyes would do the same on his side. Jed nodded though he wasn't feeling too happy about this. Heyes just rolled his eyes. Geesh!

Heyes got to his feet, but still keeping bent over and low, he carefully made his way along the wall, keeping to cover whenever he could and having his Schofield up and handy just in case. He moved silently—like a cat, keeping to the dusty shadows, stopping and listening every few steps and hearing nothing.

He came to another open doorway and stopped, listening for any sound of movement from inside the room. Everything was quiet; he couldn't even hear the Kid on the other side of the open warehouse. There wasn't a sound; nothing was moving. Finally he was approaching the back of the enclosure and though he was beginning to feel that they had lost their quarry he still moved cautiously, peering into every nook and cranny and checking out every musty, dusty room.

He gave a deep sigh and began to look for the Kid when he heard a barely audible scuffling coming from behind him. He didn't even have time to turn when he felt a heavy weight hit his back and send him face first into the cobweb covered boards of the wall. A cloud of dust puffed up, nearly choking him and his Schofield went thumping down into the inch deep layer of detritus that cluttered the floor.

Heyes felt a moment of panic and he tried to push back but whoever had hold of him pulled him away from the wall and then shoved him hard into it again. Heyes gasped as the wind was knocked out of him and this time he did cough from the dust uprising coupled with the irritation caused by the earlier smoke. The weight pressed against him even more and Heyes felt hot breath against his neck and fear took hold of him as he realized that he was truly pinned and once again at the mercy of whoever was holding him.

Then a shiver shot down his spin as an oh so familiar voice rumbled in his ear. “Prison sure didn't do you any favours Heyes,” Morrison sneered, his voice heavy with contempt. “Even with a bullet in my lung you're still no match for me.”

Heyes struggled against the hold even though he knew he had no chance of breaking it. “What the hell do you want, Morrison?” Heyes gasped out while trying to avoid breathing in the dust. “You got nothing on me now—you have no right to hold me against....”

Heyes' protest was cut short by the marshal once again pulling him away from the wall and slamming him into it again. Heyes groaned and struggled to get air into his already hurting lungs and then coughing with the dust that was drawn in with it. He felt Morrison shift, heard the hammer of his gun clicking back and then felt the cold steel press into the back of his skull.

“I've got every right Heyes,” Morrison contradicted him. “I'm an officer of the law and you're a parolee who is supposed to have restrictions on his movements. So what are you doing in here all on your lonesome, looking like you're up to no good?”

“He ain't quite all on his lonesome Marshal!”

Heyes felt a surge of relief but in the same instant also felt himself being swung around, an arm encasing his throat and the muzzle of that gun pressed against his temple. Through the dim, dusty air of the warehouse he saw his partner standing no more than ten feet from them, his gun drawn and pointed directly at the marshal.

“Let him go, Morrison.” Kid was presenting himself at his most dangerous.

“Well, what do ya' know,” Morrison was practically snickering. “the little kid himself.”

“Let him go,” Jed repeated, his aim sure and steady. “I can take you out where you stand, and you know I won't miss.”

“Oh, I'm sure you won't,” Morrison agreed. “but I strongly suggest you re-think your position. You can shoot me dead, right here and now but you ask your partner here if I haven't already got this trigger half way pulled. It wouldn't take much—no sir, not much at all for my finger to jerk the rest of the way and guess who's brains would be splattered all over this warehouse floor? You know I won't back down, so you better think real careful about what you want to do here.”

Heyes saw his partner swallow; the first sign of indecision. Heyes didn't mind at this point, in fact he was almost relieved. Morrison had him tight around the throat and he could feel the muzzle of that hand gun pressing into his temple. This was not good; he felt like the prize turkey stuck between the hungry coyote and the dedicated cattle dog; no matter which one of them won the fight, there was going to be feathers flying!

Between tight gasps for air, Heyes sought out and caught his partner's gaze; and indeed, those blue eyes had turned to ice and Heyes felt the chill go through him. He knew when his cousin had reached this level of intensity it was almost impossible to get him to back off but Heyes also knew that this was a no win situation and the gunman had to back off—he had to. Heyes tried with all his might to convey that message through his eyes; through his gaze, through that silent communication they shared.

Morrison wasn't joking; that trigger was half cocked and ready to go. The slightest twitch would pull it the rest of the way and Heyes knew he would be dead if Jed fired his gun. But even that didn't scare him as much as what he was picking up from the man who held him so securely. Morrison wasn't even shaking; there wasn't a tremble coming from him. He was staring back into those hard blue eyes and he did not feel fear; he did not back down.

Heyes held his cousin's gaze and he saw the ice start to waver, just a little. Kid knew too that Morrison was not a man you could easily push.

“That's right, Curry. You stop and think about it.” Morrison had seen the hesitation as well. “You pull that trigger and you'll be destroying everything you have—everything that matters to you. Your partner will be dead and you will have blown your amnesty to kingdom come. You will have murdered a US Marshal and you will be hunted down and hanged, that is if some bounty hunter doesn't just shoot you from ambush first. You pull that trigger and I'm taking Heyes with me and you know I ain't bluffin' Curry; you know I'll do it.”

Heyes sent the Kid a nearly imperceptible nod, the best he could muster with his neck in a vice the way it was, but Jed saw it. He swallowed and sighed and then nodded back. He took a deeper breath and then shifted his gaze back to the marshal. He nodded again and tipping the muzzle of his Colt upwards, he uncocked the hammer.

“Alright Morrison,” Jed told him, albeit reluctantly. “Do it your way.” And he moved to slip his gun back into its holster.

“No ya' don't,” Morrison stopped him. “You think I'm a idiot Curry? With your speed? I don't think so. You unload that hand gun, right now.”

Jed sighed and with slumped shoulders, sent his cousin a long suffering look. Heyes shrugged—again, the best that he could handle under his present circumstances. Jed broke his gun open and tipped the cartridges into his left palm.

“Okay,” Morrison approved. “now scatter them.”

Kid squatted just slightly and sent the bullets clattering across the dirty floor to end up bumping up against the far wall or disappearing down a cobwebbed hole or into a dark dusty shadow. He straightened up and awaited further instructions.

“Good. Now send that Colt over this way—easy. Just slide it across the floor.”

Jed did so and the firearm slid neatly under Morrison's raised boot. Then and only then did the marshal uncocked his own handgun and relieve the pressure of it from Heyes' temple. Before he could stop himself, Heyes actually sighed with relief, although what was going to happen next was anyone's guess.

Morrison removed his arm from around Heyes' throat and roughly gave him a shove which sent him staggering across the floor and sprawling into the Kid, practically knocking both of them off their feet. While they recovered their balance, Morrison quickly dove down and grabbed the Kid's empty Colt and then stood up and had his own revolver once again aimed directly at the two ex-outlaws. They all stood and glared at one another.

Finally Morrison broke the stalemate. “You idiots! You fucking morons! Do you have any idea what you've just done!?”

The partners both stood in silent disbelief for a moment, staring at their nemesis with slacken jaws. 

“What do ya' mean; what we've done!?” Heyes was the first to recover. “Why are you hounding us!? We're both legal now and you've got no jurisdiction...!”

“LEGAL!?” Morrison damn near spit the word out as he holstered his revolver; an act that neither Heyes nor the Kid missed, by the way. “What are you talking about; Legal!? You complete bloody imbeciles! I didn't even know you were down here—you're suppose to be up in Colorado! Jesus Heyes! You're on parole!! What the hell are you doing down here, playing detective!?”

“Well...I...ah....what do ya' mean!?” Heyes became rather indignant. “You knew damn well we were here—what the hell were you thinkin' coming after us!?”

Morrison was almost red in the face he was so angry and when he strode towards the boys with his hands clenched into fists and a snarl on his face, neither one could help but step back a pace or two.

“Why the hell would I be coming after you!?” the marshal demanded. “You're past history! I don't give a damn about either one of you! I was after Mitchell and I would have had him by now too if it wasn't for you two idiots blundering in here and messing it all up!”

“What!?” Jed threw back at him and then he and Heyes exchanged slightly concerned looks. “Why would you be after Mitchell?”

“Yeah,” Heyes seconded that opinion. “We thought you two were working together.”

“WORKING TOGETHER!?” Now Morrison was red in the face and his angry retort was momentarily abated as a harsh spasm of coughing took hold. He got himself under control again, spit into the dust and glared back at the two ex-outlaws. “Working together,” he repeated in disgust. “What kind of a low-life, double crossing piece of shit do you take me for!?”

“Well....ahh.....” Both fellas were looking everywhere but at the marshal and even came close to shuffling their toes in the dusty floor.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Morrison looked as though he was getting ready to shoot them again. “That piece of shit—that scum! Nothing worse than a lawman gone bad—and you think I was working with him!?”

“Well....” Heyes still looked a little embarrassed. “....what are you doing here then? I mean, we kept seeing signs of you everywhere we went! If you weren't after us, then....?”

“Jeez Heyes—you are thick aren't ya?” Morrison sneered at him. “I just finished telling you I was after Mitchell. After he left the prison, Warden Reece began to notice oddities in the book keeping so the penal commission sent in some officers to do an independent examination of the financial records. It seems that good ole' Warden Mitchell was embezzling funds from the prison's accounts. At least a quarter of the money intended for upkeep of the prison ended up in his pockets.”

“Really?” Heyes was incredulous. “He actually was embezzling funds? We just made that up to get Mrs. Stanton scared enough to make contact with him.” He paused and looked reflective. “No wonder the food was so crappy,” he mumbled. “and no heat in the winter.”

“Hmm,”  Morrison practically growled.  “We think that is why he had the doctor out there at the prison murdered and you and Reece were targeted.  All the complaints and then that hearing was bringing too much attention to the warden and how he ran that prison.  I think he figured that if he just got rid of the main antagonists then he’d be fine.  What a joke!”  
Heyes' face fell and he turned a rather sickly shade of pale.  “Ya’ mean Doc was killed because of that hearing?”  he whispered, a guilty knot settling into his gut.  “Because of me?”  
“Naw Heyes,”  Kid tried to assure him.  “It’s wasn’t cause of you.  It was cause of Mitchell and Carson.  It wasn’t you.”  
“Yeah, but if we hadn’t pushed for that…just so’s I could get out sooner, just cause I couldn’t handle it in there—and the Doc died because….”  
“No Heyes!”  Jed reiterated.  “Just like Abi said to me; I can’t take on the responsibility for what Julia Stanton did—that’s on her!  And she’s paid the ultimate price for it.”  
Heyes still looked sad and contrite, but he nodded sombrely and tried to accept what his friend was saying to him.  “Yeah, I suppose,”  he admitted, then sighed a deep sigh.  “But if all of that was because of the books being tampered with, why are they still after Beth and Anya?  I mean it’s kinda after the fact now, isn’t it?”  
“Yeah,”  Jed shrugged.  “I donno Heyes; revenge?”  
Heyes looked perplexed and shook his head.  “But Mitchell and Carson were making my life a misery before that hearing came up—what was that all about?”  
“Will you two shuddup!”  Morrison had finally had enough of this conjecturing.  “All this ‘what if’s’ and ‘why that’s’!  Jesus Christ I knew I had a good reason for keeping you two apart!  Maybe we should just catch the bastard and ask him ourselves!”  Then Morrison really got mad and our two boys felt as though they were trapped in a lion’s den.   “And I had him! I had that bastard convinced that I had turned bad, and I was fed up with the way the law was handling things and that I was interested in getting in on some of his action.” Morrison shook his head and cursed again. “Dammit! I had it all arrange to meet up with him in Missouri but then he got wind of something—one of his cohorts got killed and sent him running scared!” Heyes looked a little sheepish at this, but Morrison was too pissed off to notice. “I finally tracked him down again and got him to relax. He was gonna meet me here today—and then you two imbeciles showed up and sent him running again! GODDAMMIT!!”

The cousins both cringed and took another step back.

“Oh.” Heyes actually sounded contrite, but then set up his own defence. “Well, you can hardly blame us for thinking the same thing as Mitchell then, can ya'?”

Morrison snarled and then looked as though he was actually going to come after Heyes and wring his arrogant little neck when their dispute was suddenly forgotten. A gun shot reverberated through the large empty warehouse, sending innumerable birds squawking and flapping their way up towards the ceiling, or out through the nearest exit. The marshal instantly had his gun out again and was searching the side lines, looking into shadows and under crannies, hoping for any sign of movement.

Heyes cringed and pressed his hands against his ears as the loud shot echoed against the walls and the hundreds of birds instantly on the wing sent dust and cobwebs raining down upon them. He took a step back and fell over something on the ground. He hit the floor with a thud and a puff of dust and then coughing and trying to wave the settling dust away from his face, he saw that the object he had fallen over was his cousin.

Then more gunshots filled the air as Morrison found his target and began to shoot after it. Heyes cringed and ducked again while at the same time grabbing Jed's shoulder and rolling him over onto his back.

“Kid!” Heyes called him, and grabbing the collar of his coat, gave it a shake. “Kid! C'mon, Kid!”

But Jed didn't respond. He lay silently with his eyes closed and blood slowly oozing from a nasty gash across his forehead.

“Aww, jeez Kid! C'mon, no!” Heyes was begging him, desperation taking a solid hold. “C'mon please! Don't do this to me again!”

Heyes was almost sobbing as he got his knees up under himself and then leaned an ear against his cousin's chest. He practically cried with relief as he felt and heard the strong and steady thump thump of a heart beat. He sighed and sent out a silent 'thank you' to the powers that be and then reached up and cupping his friend's face in his hand he turned his head slightly towards him to examine the wound on his forehead.

It didn't look too bad, but any head wound was cause for concern and Heyes desperately looked around for help. Morrison was nowhere to be seen and there was nothing—not even gunfire, to be heard. Heyes took off his bandana and pressed it up against his partner's forehead and wished he had some water with him to try and clean the wound, but then he figured with all this dust in the air, that probably wouldn't make any difference now anyways.

He carefully tied the bandana around Jed's head and then, making sure that his cousin was resting comfortably he went in search of his Schofield. It didn't take him long to find the weapon since he had a pretty good idea where he had dropped it in the first place and picking it up he made sure it was safe and then brushed and blew the dust and dirt off of it. He slid the hand gun back into its holster and returned to the Kid's side and keeping his hand on his friend's shoulder, he sat back down on the dirty floor and awaited the return of the marshal. At this point; even his help was better than none at all.

As it turned out it was not Morrison's return that relieved Heyes, it was the local constabulary. Apparently, and not surprisingly the sound of gunfire coming from an otherwise abandoned warehouse had caught the attention of an ambitious corporal as well as that of two private detectives who had managed to lose track of their elusive parolee. The alarm was sounded and before much time had passed the previously abandoned warehouse was crawling with law men.

Heyes heard them coming, pushing their way through the debris and sending up the frustrated birds once again to wing and to scream their indignation to echo down upon them. Heyes perked up, scanning the empty spaces that surrounded him, trying to see anything through the dust and feathers floating in the air.

“Hello!” he called out, thinking it odd that for once in his life he was actually relieved that lawmen were quickly closing in on him. “Over here!” he shouted again. “We need help—my friends been hurt!”

“Heyes!?” Cage's voice came to him through the emptiness. “Where are ya'?! Keep talking!”

“Over here!” Heyes obliged him. “Hurry up! We're over here! Hello!”

Then Heyes saw them and his face broke out into a relieved grin. He waved over to them as they came through the dusky dimness and their shapes became more defined. Cage was in the lead, his gun drawn as he peered ahead of him. There were five uniformed police officers fanning out and scoping the area, making sure all was safe to proceed, and then bringing up the rear was Harry doing his best to look important but still letting the other men take the lead. 

Heyes waved his arm over his head and Cage spotted him and came running over, closely followed by the Bannerman man.

“Jeez Heyes!” Cage cursed at him. “What the hell happened!?”

“It was Mitchell!” Heyes informed him. “He shot Kid! We gotta get him to the Doc's!”

“Yeah, alright. Just calm down.” Cage tried to reassure him. “How bad is he hurt?”

“He's still breathing, but bad enough!” Heyes was up on his knees again, getting ready to lift his partner up and get him to a doctor's office.

Cage put a hand on his shoulder. “Just wait Heyes,” he told him. “Let him be.”

“But we gotta get him....”

“Just wait Heyes! Calm down!” Cage repeated. “Let me get a look at him.”

Heyes settled down again, but his breathing was rushed and his lips had drawn back in irritation. Cage ignored him and kneeling down himself he slipped the bandana off the Kid's forehead and did a quick examination of the wound. Harry squatted down beside them and sucked his teeth as he looked at the Kid's pale blood smeared face.

“Jeez, that looks pretty bad,” he diagnosed. “We oughta get him to a doctor.”

“YEAH!” Heyes nodded emphatically. “Get 'em to a doctor!”

Cage sent Harry an irritated look. Trying to get Heyes to calm down was hard enough under these circumstances, and having Harry making a point of stating the obvious wasn't helping.

“We will Heyes,” Cage assured him. “It actually doesn't look too bad” He sent a pointed look over to the other detective. “Don't worry Heyes, he should be alright.”

One of the uniformed officers came over to the group on the floor hoping to get some information as to what had gone on here.

“How is he?” was the first question out of the lawman's mouth.

“He needs a doctor!” Heyes stated. “Why are we all just standing around here!?”

“We're not just standing around!” the sergeant was insulted. “My men are doing an investigation of the area—like they're suppose to be doing! What were you two fellas doing in here in the first place? This building isn't safe to be walking around in and shooting off firearms!”

“Look, I'll tell ya' everything ya' wanna know! Just get my friend here to a doctor!”

“He really should get some medical attention Sergeant.” Cage seconded Heyes' opinion.

The Sergeant nodded. “Yes alright. Kelly! Newman! Get over here!”

Two young constables came on the run, kicking up dust as they arrived but full of good intentions.

“Yessir!” came the unified response.

“Get this fella over to Dr. Saunder's place—pronto!”

“Yessir!”

The two hearty constables got in line, one at the Kid's head and one at his feet and between the two of them, quite easily lifted him up off the floor in preparation of following their orders. Heyes came up with them, refusing to let go of his partner's shoulder.

“Easy with him!” Heyes demanded, his voice heavy with concern. “Take it easy.”

“Don't worry sir.” constable number one assured him. “We'll be real gentle getting him over to the Doc's.”

“Yeah okay,” Heyes mumbled. “Let's go.” He started to walk along with the small procession with every intention of accompanying them all the way the doctor's office. He was going to make sure this was done right! That is until two sets of hands grabbed him and pulled him up short.

“You ain't goin' anywhere Heyes!”

“Hold on young man! I need a statement from you.”

“No!” Heyes argued. “That can wait until....”

“No it can't.” the sergeant countered him.

“I'm not letting you outa my sight Heyes!” Cage informed him. “What was the bright idea, you and Curry running off like that!? I told you to stay put and when I tell ya' to do something I expect you to listen! You have a lot at stake here in case you have forgotten and then you go and disappear and give Harry the slip! What the hell game are you playing at....!”

“We saw Mitchell!” Heyes explained, feeling like he was being backed into a corner. “We didn't have time to come and get you! And Harry....well, Harry I'm sorry, but you were just gonna slow us down.”

Harry puffed up with the apology, secretly relieved that they hadn't brought him along on this turkey shoot. “Oh well, that's alright Heyes.....”

“No it's not alright!” Cage interrupted. “You agreed Heyes! When I'm not around you agreed to accept Harry's authority and then the first time it becomes inconvenient you duck out on him! Do you want to go back to prison!?”

“NO! I don't want to go back to prison!” Heyes was getting angry now, and coupled with his anxiety over the Kid's welfare he was almost ready to explode.”

“Gentlemen! Gentlemen!” the sergeant interrupted them. “I don't know all of what is going on here and I would appreciate being brought into the loop! What in tarnation happened here!?” 

Heyes gave a deep melodramatic sigh, feeling the frustration of having to stand there and explain things rather than follow his partner towards medical care.

“My partner and I spotted the man we've been trailing,” Heyes began through a clenched jaw and jangled nerves. “He was headed this way looking like he was late for an appointment so we figured we didn't have time to go for backup. We got in here, but couldn't find him. Then Marshal Morrison found us...”

“Morrison?” Cage interrupted. “He's here?”

“Yes,” Heyes confirmed. “And apparently working on our side. He said that he had set up a meeting with Mitchell pretending to be wanting in on Mitchell's action, but then me and Kid....well, I guess we kinda messed things up—but dammit! We should have been told that Morrison was working with us! How were we supposed to know!?”

“I have found that to be typical of the various different law enforcement agencies,” the sergeant commented dryly as he sent pointed glances over to Cage and Harry. “None of them will offer information to the others so nobody knows what's going on. Bloody waste of time if you ask me!”

“Yeah, well. We didn't know,” Heyes mumbled, still feeling slightly guilty over messing up another man's game, even if that other man was Morrison. “Anyway, while we were talking somebody started taking pot shots at us. That's when Kid got hit, and then Morrison ran off after whoever it was. I'm willing to bet it was Mitchell!”

“You mean Morrison has gone after Mitchell now!?” Cage demanded, his frustration at this ex-convict becoming more and more apparent. “Why the hell didn't you say so!?” 

“I just did!” Heyes yelled back, his temper flaring again. “Look! My partner has been shot! You're keeping me anchored here—you won't let me go see to him and you won't let me go after Mitchell! What do you want from me!?”

“I want you to stay outa trouble, goddammit!” Cage yelled back at him. “Abi'll have my hide if you mess up your parole!”

“Oh thanks for the sentiment there 'Detective!” Heyes was at his sarcastic best. “Wouldn't want to do anything to jeopardize your hide!”

Cage exploded and grabbing Heyes by the front of his coat began to shake him. Heyes was sure he could feel his brain rattling and realized that he had pushed the big man just a tad too far.

“ALRIGHT! STOP!” Heyes finally managed to spew out of his mouth. “STOP!”

“You arrogant little bastard!” Cage cursed him, but he did at least stop shaking him. “You wait here while I go and check out what's happening!”

“I thought you wanted me to stick with you,” Heyes snarked back at him as the ringing in his ears began to dissipate.

Cage came at him again with his fists in balls and Heyes took an involuntary step backwards. Fortunately for Heyes the big detective kept himself in check this time and simply contented himself with burning a hole in Heyes' head with his eyes.

“Sergeant,” Cage snarled while still glaring at Heyes. “this man is a convict out on a conditional parole. I'm putting him in your custody—don't let him out of your sight.”

“Why don't you just leave me with Harry?” Heyes asked still feeling angry with this whole situation.

“Cause you just proved that you can't be trusted with Harry—that's why!” Cage yelled back. “I'm gonna go check out Morrison—and you better be here when I get back!” And then he glanced over at Harry, who was doing his best to disappear into the dusty floor. “Both of you!”

Cage pulled his Colt revolver and gave it a quick checking over and then he turned and was heading out the back way of the warehouse at a long-legged jog. Heyes watched him go, his fists and teeth clenched in frustrated anger.

“Now you heard him Heyes,” Harry tried to get his friend's attention. “Don't you go taking off again or we'll both be in trouble!”

Then Harry regretted his remark when he did indeed get his friends attention and that dark 'if looks could kill' glare became directed at him.

“Well, Mr. Heyes,” the sergeant interrupted the grinding of wills. “how about you and your friend help us look for bullet casings.”

Fifteen minutes later the lawmen were still milling about looking for casings and examining the various footprints in the dust and Heyes was getting more than a little antsy. Finally he'd had enough of this and decided that it was time he evened the odds a little bit and got rid of one set of beady little eyes that wouldn't stop staring at him.

“Hey Harry, do me a favour will ya'?” Heyes quietly asked the Bannerman man while the others were investigating elsewhere.

“Sure Heyes. Anything for you, you know that.”

“Ah huh,” came Heyes' cryptic response as he sent another quick glance to the officer in charge. “Head over to the Doc's place will ya'? Check up on the Kid. I'm going nuts here not knowing how he is.”

Harry shuffled a little uncomfortably. “Oh, I donno Heyes,” he mumbled. “I think I'm supposed ta' keep an eye on you.”

“Aw, c'mon Harry,” Heyes smiled, flashing his dimples and looking innocent. Harry should have known this trick by now. “What do ya' think I'm gonna do with all these very competent lawmen just itching for something more exciting to do?”

“Well.....”

“C'mon Harry,” Heyes continued to push. “I'm asking ya' as a friend. I just wanna know how he's doing.” 

“Well, okay Heyes,” Harry agreed. “Truth be known I'm kinda worried about him too.”

“Yeah,” Heyes nodded. “So you just nip over there and find out, then come back here quick as you can and let me know, okay? That way neither one of us has to worry anymore.”

Harry smiled and nodded; yeah that sounded reasonable. “Okay Heyes. You won't go anywhere, right?”

“I promise Harry; I'll stay very close to this vicinity.” 

“Ah...right!” Harry gave him a quizzical look. If he could ever learn to listen to his own instincts rather than trying to think everything out he just might have made a decent detective. “Okay Heyes; I'll be right back.”

“Okay.”

Heyes watched the detective make his way out towards the front of the warehouse just to make sure he was well on his way. The ex-convict but still very competent conman sent his glance over towards the working law enforcement. His mouth tightened in mild irritation as he felt the restrictions of his parole bit deeper into his psyche and then slowly, keeping his eyes on the lawmen, he backed his way over to the wall.

Once he felt the boards behind him he stopped and watched for a moment. No one had noticed him slipping away from the group; they were all too busy with their noses pointed downwards for them to be giving any thought to some has been parolee. Good. He checked the distance to the rear exit and scanned the wall for convenient hiding places and very slowly began sidling along the wall until he got behind some planks and 2x4's. He ducked in behind those, stopped and listened again for any alarm to sound and when nothing came he misted over to the open double wide doors leading to the outside—and he disappeared. 

Once outside he did a quick scan of the area and found himself in a back alley. He was alone but the wet snow on the ground gave a clear accounting of how many others had recently passed this way. Heyes waited again, listening for any sounds from either inside the warehouse, or outside, down the lane but all was silent.

He gave a quick glance over his shoulder and stepping out into the lane he scrutinized the tracks left in the slush. Definitely three different sets had gone running off in the one direction, the occasional skid mark indicating the hasty departure and slippery conditions of the retreat.

Heyes pulled out his Schofield and keeping close to the sides of the structures lining the lane way he carefully became the fourth set of footprints to head in that one direction. It was eerily quiet, the snow it seemed was muffling the sounds from the street and the town that must be carrying on with it's own business despite the cat and mouse game going on in the back alleyway. 

Heyes couldn't help but feel nervous; he knew who the players were but he didn't really know who his enemies were. Mitchell for sure was his ultimate focus and nemesis. Morrison—now there was an enigma! Where did that marshal stand in all of this? Was he for Heyes or against him? And an even more mystifying question; was Heyes for or against Morrison? Should he be watching the marshal's back, or his own? 

And Attwater. Oh boy! They would go for a while getting along just fine and then Heyes would feel the animosity coming off him in waves. Cage was interested in Abi for himself, that much was obvious but it was also obvious that Abi only had eyes for the ex-outlaw and that must be sticking in the detective's craw! If push came to shove here, would Cage back Heyes up or see it as an opportunity to rid himself of a rival?

Heyes found himself with that age old dilemma that had haunted him throughout his lifetime; who could he trust? He wished the Kid was with him, backing him up. Damn that Mitchell! If the Kid died....oh don't go there! Heyes was already so close to wanting to shoot the ex-warden down in cold blood that if he started dwelling on the Kid's possible demise then there would be no stopping the bullet into that bastard's heart! He'd worry about going back to prison after the fact!

Heyes took a deep breath to steady himself and saw the condensation in the air and felt the chill tingle against his nostrils. His fingers holding his gun were slightly numb and he hesitated a moment to blow on them to warm them up. He carried on, alternating between watching the tracks on the ground and scanning the rooftops and the corners up ahead, not wanting to miss anything but not wanting to get left behind either.

He came to a T-intersection and noticed that two sets of prints went off to the left and then the third set carried on straight ahead. Heyes was faced with a decision; which way to go? By the way the tracks over-lapped one another Heyes would say that Mitchell and Morrison had made the turn but Cage, who's tracks were much larger than the other two sets had carried on straight ahead. Did Cage know these back alleys? Was he taking a short cut in order to cut the quarry off? Did Morrison know that he had back up; did the two lawmen have an opportunity to communicate and set a trap?

Heyes hesitated for a beat and then continued on straight, following the Pinkerton's. He had no idea if this was the right course of action or not, but he knew he felt better knowing that Cage Attwater was ahead of him and not coming up behind.

He carried on, watching the tracks and scanning the lane ahead and still not hearing anything. He walked on, glanced down into the snow and then stopped in his tracks, feeling a dread go through him. Cage's footprints had disappeared. Heyes stared down at the trackless snow for a moment, looking almost comical in his surprise. He searched the ground around him, first one side and then the other, but nothing! The tracks came this far and then stopped as though Cage had simply lifted up into thin air. 

Had he backtracked, carefully placing his feet into his own footprints until he had found an open door or set of stairs to climb up? Heyes straightened and looked around, scanning the structures behind him. He ran back, looking for an unlocked door or convenient hiding place. He found one door, rattled the handle only to find it locked, then tried another only to find the same thing. He looked around a siding and saw a narrow stairway heading up to an open loft and deduced that this must have been the course of action.

With gun steady and pointed up the stairs, Heyes grabbed the railing and took a step. Then instinctively he ducked as a shot rang out from further down the alley and he scooted in behind the stairway, his heart in his throat. He waited and listened intensely for a follow up, but the shot wasn't aimed at him and after a few seconds of silence he cautiously looked out from behind the steps.

Nothing—not a sound. He bit his lower lip in nervous reflection and with his Schofield up and ready he tentatively stepped out from his hiding place. He stayed close against the wall as he slowly made his way down the alley, scanning above and ahead, staining his ears for any sound.

Two more shots rang out and he ducked again and pressed himself into the side of the building, holding his breath while he waited. Somebody yelling—another shot! Silence. It was coming from up ahead; a running battle was going on but Heyes couldn't tell what direction it was going in. Was it coming towards him or away? Were they all ahead of him or was Cage above, looking down on him? Heyes did another frantic scan of the building tops but saw nothing. He focused his attention ahead again and cautiously began to move forward.

 

Dr. Saunders was in his office with Timmy and Mrs. Carlyle trying to figure out how he had gotten a bean stuck down inside his ear canal. Young Timmy was adamantly denying any knowledge of said bean while his older brother Geoffrey sat silently in the corner trying to hide his apparent guilt. 

“How many times have I told you not to put things in your ears!?” the embarrassed mother was demanding while the doctor stood by holding up the offending bean with a pair of tweezers.

“But I didn't do it....” Timmy's quiet voice insisted while at the same time he was thinking that his mother had never ever said anything to him about putting anything in his ears. Even though he was young Timmy still had enough common sense not to voice his thoughts in this matter. The bean however was just as much a mystery to him as it was to the adults and neither of them were believing him.

Before the discussion could go any further, and much to Geoffrey's relief, the front door to the doctor's home could be heard banging open and suddenly there was quite a commotion going on between the doctor's wife and a pair of rather insistent visitors.

“Good heavens constables!” the wife's strident tones could be heard echoing down the hallway. “You can't just come barging in....OH! Gracious me, what has happened here!?”

“Man's been shot Mrs. Saunders!” came the obvious response. “Gotta see the Doc right away!”

“He's with another patient right now....”

“Well, this is important!” came another voice. “This could be a matter of life and death!”

“Oh alright!” was the rather indignant response, after all she had been married to the doctor for thirty years and trampled snow and a little bit of blood dripping on her carpets was only an emergency from a housekeepers point of view. “Bring him down here and I'll see when the doctor can look at him.”

The procession could be heard clumping down the hallway, passed the office door and on into the examination room where there was a bed for the patient to be laid down on and all the supplies needed to tend to various types of injuries. They could still hear Mrs. Saunders complaining about the inconvenience and the two constables stating their case as the door to the room closed and the voices, thankfully became muffled.

Dr. Saunders glanced over to the anxious mother and smiled. “It's nothing serious, Mrs. Carlyle,” he assured her as he dumped the bean into the trash and he smiled at Timmy and ruffled his hair. “Just don't go putting anything into your ears again, alright young man?”

“But I didn't do it this time....”

“Come along you two!” the exasperated mother hustled her two off spring towards the door. “I swear! The things the pair of you get up to....”

“Good day, Mrs. Carlyle,” the doctor said as he ushered the family down the hall and out the front door. “Sounds like I have another patient waiting for me.”

“Yes. Good day doctor. Thank you.”

The doctor closed the door with a sigh and a shake of his head and then looked down the hallway towards the door at the end. It opened up to emit his wife just on her way to get him. She spotted him and rolled her eyes over the bad timing of some people. It was time for tea after all!

“It's quite alright my dear,” the doctor assured his wife as he met her at the examination room door and gave her a little peck on the cheek. “We can have tea when I'm done with this one.”

“Yes, yes I suppose so,” she mumbled, though disappointed. She so looked forward to their afternoon tea together. “You may be a while with this one though. He's out cold.”

“Oh well, then perhaps it won't take long at all.”

She smiled up at him, feeling placated and gave him a loving pat on the arm. “I'll put the kettle on. I know we're going to be needing hot water for more than just tea.”

The doctor nodded and watched her ample figure make its way down the hall and then disappear into the kitchen. He opened the door and entered the examination room. The two constables were standing around looking out of place, while a young man who was, as his wife had stated; out cold, had been laid out on the bed, still fully clothed and with his wet, dirty boots leaving melting snow on the sheet.

The doctor sighed; some people were so totally useless. “Well, c'mon,” he ordered the two young men. “Get his coat off and those boots. Perhaps one of you could tell me what happened here?”

“Oh yeah!” came the once again unified response from Kelly and Newman. It would seem that these two were quite used to working together.

“We don't know what actually happened,” Newman informed the doctor as he tugged at a boot. “We heard shots fired over at the old Freemont warehouse but by the time we got there the shooter was gone and this fella had been hit. He had a friend with him though, maybe you can talk to him about what happened.”

“Hmm, yes,” Saunders agreed as he took a careful look at the wound on the young man's forehead. He furrowed his brow and then went over to the side cabinets and commenced to gather together some supplies. He poured disinfectant into a kidney bowl, grabbed a handful of small cotton pads and returned to the patient. He set the bowl and pads down on the side table and pulled up a chair to set himself down on. As soon as the coat and boots had been removed the doctor set about cleaning the wound so he could get a better look at it.

“Hmm,” he mumbled again. “I've seen worse, but then the victim was usually dead so this young man can consider himself lucky. Does he have a name?”

“Yeah, I suppose,” came Kelly's optimistic response but it went no further than that.

Saunders sent him an expectant look. “Well....what is it!?”

“Oh!” Kelly suddenly looked concerned. “I donno. They didn't say.” He looked over as his companion. “Do you know?”

“Nope,” Newman admitted. “Ya' want me to go back and ask?”

“No no, not yet,” Saunders told him. “I'm sure your sergeant will be by later to check up on him, I'll ask him.”

“Oh, yeah.”

A knock came to the door just then and Newman actually had the presence of mind to open it and give Mrs. Saunders access. She smiled a thank you and entered the room carrying a small bowl of hot water along with a wash cloth, a towel and a bar of soap. She came up on the other side of the bed from her husband and set her items down on the side table and set about cleaning up the patient as best she could.

“My, but he certainly is a handsome young man,” Mrs. Saunders commented with a sparkle in her eye. “Why in the world someone would want to shoot him....”

“I'm sure we'll find out the reason sooner or later,” her husband assured her. “In the mean time it does look as though he will be here for a day or two so we best get these clothes off of him and get him settled.”

“Yes of course,” his wife agreed. “You leave me to that dear. I'll get him cleaned up.”

The doctor have a big sigh and leaned back as he threw away the last bit of cleaning pad. He looked over at the two constables and then stood up and come to them.

“You fellas can go back to your duties now,” he informed them. “Tell your sergeant that the injury isn't too bad considering but wait until tomorrow if he wants to ask him any questions. Perhaps one of you could also let the sheriff know that this has happened.”

“Yeah, okay Doc,” Newman agreed. “Thanks. I'll get his name for you too, and let you know.”

“Fine.” The doctor ushered them down the hall and out the front door. “Thank you. Take care now.”

Then just as the doctor was about to close the door another gentleman came hurrying down the street and began the assent up his steps and to his porch. The newcomer looked up, startled to find himself face to face with the doctor himself and seemed a little flustered at the unexpected encounter.

“OH! Ah, are you the doctor?”

Saunders taped the business plaque that hung beside the front door. “That's what they tell me,” he commented. “It seems it never rains but it pours.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing.” The doctor sighed. “It's just turning into a busy afternoon. What can I do for you, Mr....?”

“Briscoe, sir!” Harry introduced himself with the usual flourish. “Harry Briscoe! I'm a Bannerman man!”

“Oh.” Enlightenment dawned. “I take it you are connected in some way to the young man who was brought to me with the bullet wound?”

“Yessir!” Harry marvelled at the man's astuteness. “Come to check up on his condition.”

“Well, come in Detective Briscoe,” the doctor offered. “No sense standing out here in the cold.”

The two men made their way down the hall to the end room and the doctor knocked gently on the door. 

“Is he decent Meredith?” he asked through the barrier.

“Yes, yes. All done in here,” came the response.

The doctor opened the door and the two men entered the room. Harry instantly looked concerned and went over to the bed and touched the Kid's shoulder. He truly was concerned for his friend and found it surprisingly upsetting to see him in such a vulnerable state. Jed was all cleaned up but his hair was wet from Mrs. Saunders giving it a quick wash to remove the blood that had soaked into it, but the wound itself still looked raw and painful.

“Kid?” Harry called quietly, giving his shoulder a little shake. “Hey, Kid.”

“I'm afraid your friend will remain unconscious for a while yet,” the doctor informed him. “But he should be fine when he does wake up. We just have to keep a close eye on him over the next twenty-four hours.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure Doc,” Harry accepted that. “But he's going to be fine you say?”

“I expect so,” Saunders assured him, noting the man's obvious concern. “Can you tell me his name?”

“Oh, I sure can!” Harry puffed up with pride at his association with the wounded man. “This here is none other than Kid Curry! I'm sure you've heard of him!”

Mrs Saunders gave a little gasp and brought her hand up to her ample breast. “Oh my! Well that certainly explains all those other.....Oh no, no...never mind.” She smiled, looking a little flustered as she waved a hand in front of her face. “I'll go put the kettle on for tea, shall I!?” And then she was gone to recover her composure. 

The doctor furrowed his brow. “Kid Curry you say?” 

“Yessir,” Harry confirmed it, pleased with the result of his claim. “None other than.”

“Hmm. Well, come join us for tea Mr. Briscoe,” the doctor invited him. “Perhaps you can fill us in on what happened to Mr. Curry. I'm afraid the two constables were not much help.”

“Oh well, as tempting as that sounds, I really should get back to Heyes,” Harry told him. “He's real anxious to hear how his partner is doing.”

“Mr. Heyes is in town as well?” the doctor asked. “Well, I suppose that's not surprising. The two of them do seem to attract—trouble though, don't they?”

“Ha Doc!” Harry laughed good heartedly. “You don't know the half of it!”

 

Hannibal Heyes scraped himself along the side of the building, keeping his eyes and attention focused forward, his gun up and ready. This was a cat and mouse game and he had no idea where the other players were. At least fifteen minutes had gone by since the last of the gunshots had sounded and now there was just silence in amongst the slush. Heyes shivered involuntarily; this standing around in the snow and afternoon winter sun did not do much for the circulation.

He moved forward again, crossing one foot over in front of the other, keeping his back against the wall as he continued to watch and listen, and move. Then he heard the creaking of hinges coming from in front of him and across the lane to a building there. He creased his brow in an quick question mark and watched as the back door, just twenty feet across and ahead of him opened slowly into the lane. Heyes watched and waited, his Schofield aimed and at the ready.

A head and part of a shoulder appeared through the open door, the owner of said appendages peering straight ahead while the right hand slowly rose up to reveal his own hand gun being held at the ready. The man was looking away from Heyes and wasn't even aware the ex-con was standing behind him on the other side of the alley. He was only focused on what he was searching for up ahead.

Heyes waited quietly, not quite sure if he should let his presence be known or not but then the decision was made for him when the head turned slightly and Heyes recognized a slightly haggard rendition of Mitchell's profile. The ex-con felt a tingle of conditioned fear shiver through him that was then quickly replaced by anger. Mitchell turned his head just enough to catch Heyes in his peripheral vision.

Mitchell tensed and swung fully around to face his adversary, bringing up his gun and firing a shot at him just as Heyes ducked and fired as well. Mitchell's bullet hit the wood planking just beside Heyes' head and the ex-con felt sparkles of dirt and dust dance up and sting his eyes and cheek. He heard Mitchell curse and looking forward again, Heyes caught just the last glimpse of him flipping back inside the building and disappearing.

Heyes pushed himself off the wall and was charging across the open lane towards the door when he heard another gun shot rent the air and someone calling him.

“HEYES!” It was Cage's voice. “HEYES! STOP!” 

And another gun shot, both of them having been aimed up into the air as a warning, but then Heyes didn't stop and Cage cursed him for an arrogant, hard-headed, not to mention; stupid little bastard who was intent on getting himself killed! Cage came down the alleyway at a slippery run even though he knew he wasn't going to get there in time.

Heyes reached the open door and slipped through, quickly closing it behind him. He showed the presence of mind that Mitchell had not and quickly locked the door and then barred it in order to at least slow down any unwanted visitors. Heyes wanted Mitchell for himself so he sure didn't want to be interrupted by the large detective—or the marshal for that matter, wherever he was!  
Another gun shot and Heyes ducked again as a splinter of wood flew off the closed door just above Heyes' head and Heyes fleetingly thought that Mitchell's sights must be off for him to keep on missing like that, then he hit the floor and quickly scrambled for cover in order to get his bearings. Just like the majority of the other buildings on the lane, this building was also abandoned but it wasn't as large as the warehouse; this was apparently the back storage room to the store front that opened onto a once busy side street. But just like the warehouse, this room was dark and dank with cobwebs hanging off of every conceivable surface and dust prevailing in the air and laying inch deep under foot. There was a staircase lined up against the wall closest to the alley that lead to an open second floor. Heyes could see foot prints in the dust on the steps and knew that his adversary had headed upstairs.

Heyes was just about to make a run up those stairs when he jumped as the back door suddenly rattled violently and he heard the muffled voice again.

“Heyes!” Cage called him. Rattle, rattle. Shake, shake. “Heyes open the damn door!”

Another shot vibrated through the small room, the bullet striking the wood of the door and sending another splinter twirling up into the air to land soundlessly in the dust just a foot away from the door itself. Cage cursed and ducked out of the way himself on the outside. He hadn't seen Mitchell enter this building so assumed that it was Heyes himself shooting at him.

“Goddammit Heyes!” the detective yelled at him. “What do ya' think you're doing!? Do you want to go back to prison!? Open this damn door!”

Then Heyes just about hit the ceiling again as Cage took a running plunge at the wooden door and crashed with his full weight into the barrier. Heyes cursed quietly to himself and then heard footsteps running across the floor overhead and he made a run for the stairs himself. Damn if Mitchell was going to get away from him now!

When Heyes was about half way up the staircase he heard another crash and then the splintering of wood in amongst curses and yells from the detective himself as he came shoulder first through the door.  
Cage regained his footing and saw Heyes running up the rest of the stairs and then disappear from sight around a support beam. 

Cage cursed to himself again; he could have shot the ex-con; had a good clean line on him but the detective just couldn't bring himself to do it so instead he held his Colt steady and took the stairs three at a time. He got up to the second floor just in time to see nothing!

Heyes had swung himself around the support beam just in time to see Mitchell push through another door on the other side of the open floor and instantly followed in his footsteps. He reached that door and found himself at the top of another stairway heading down into the abandoned store front. He was instantly down them in a puff of dust and a scrambling of feet and out through the broken front door to find himself standing on the boardwalk of the quiet side street. 

There were a few people walking about on their own business, but they still had time to stare at the dust covered apparition who was suddenly in their midst and send helpful glances towards the outside corner of the building. Heyes didn't hesitate and was on the run and around that corner just in time for Cage to put in his own appearance and once again, find himself alone.

The big detective cautiously made his way along the boardwalk, checking ahead of him and behind him and to the sides but he could see no sign of the ex-convict. Even looking down for tracks gave him nothing to go on since most of the snow and slush had been removed from the walkway and what was there was so plastered with footprints that it was of no help at all.

He reached the corner of the building and glancing down the side alley only saw a dead end but he knew this was the only way Heyes could have gone for him to disappear so quickly so he turned down it to investigate. He came right up to the high fence that indicated the dead end and thoughtfully ran his hands along it. He was in full thought mode now and looking up at the height of the fence he wondered if Heyes was athletic enough to scale it. Probably; but Cage knew that he was too bulky to be able to make that climb—one would have to be part cat.

He looked around for an alternative and instantly spotted it; a narrow opening between the fence and the wall of the building next to it. Cage went over to it to investigate and knew right away that there was no way that he would be able to get his broad chest through that narrow slit. He sighed regretfully. Sometimes there was a great advantage to being a big man but other times it was downright inconvenient. He glanced up at the fence again, shook his head and quickly retraced his steps to return to the alley via the abandoned store. He would pick up Heyes' trail again on the other side.

When Heyes had come around that same corner he also saw a dead end but he had the advantage of knowing that Mitchell had come down this way so there must be a way out. He didn't even hesitate but ran on to the high fence that separated him from the back alley. He did a quick scan and saw it; an opening between the fence and the wall of the next building! It was narrow and would be a tight fit but Heyes knew that if Mitchell had been able to make it through then he could himself.

He ran over to it and sucking in his gut (as if he had one) he squeezed himself through the narrow opening and found himself once again in that same back alley with no one around. He stood silently for a moment, looking all around him but neither saw nor heard anything. He whispered a quiet curse and once again, pressed against the wall of the building, he slowly moved along the alley way.

A few moments went by with all still as quiet as a church when Heyes stopped, feeling rather than hearing a presence close to him. He pursed his lips in concentration and tilted his head a fraction to try and pick up any sounds around him. Silence. He moved forward again, his Schofield out and in front of him, pointed ahead.

Sure enough, sudden movement caught his eye and then a sharp numbing pain as something hard came down on his wrist and his fingers lost their hold. His Schofield landed with a loud thump onto the ground and the next thing Heyes knew he had been grabbed by his coat collar and yanked into a hidden alcove! It was close quarters and Heyes quickly found himself with his back up against a wall and his face nose to nose with a very irritated looking Marshal Morrison.

Heyes gave him a cheeky grin. “Hey Marshal.”

Morrison's features morphed even harder. “What the hell are you doin' here Heyes!?” he growled in a loud whisper. “Can't you stay put even for five minutes!?”

“Well, I just thought I would come and give ya' a hand Marshal...”

“Goddammit! There's more people skulking around out here than at a travelling peep show!” the marshal irritably observed as he sent a furtive glance over Heyes' shoulder to scan the lane behind him. “And the last thing I need is YOUR help!”

“Yeah, but since I'm here anyways....”

“YOU'RE ON PAROLE!” Morrison roared at him quietly. “Why the hell I should give a hoot about you is beyond me but the smartest thing you could do right now is get outa here and let the law men handle this!”

“No offensive Marshal,” Heyes ventured with his eyes wide with innocence. “but it's been my experience that most law men can't tell their rifle butts from their.....”

Whatever Heyes was about to compare rifle butts too was abruptly disintegrate by more rough shaking. Heyes couldn't understand it; why was everybody shaking him so much? Did he really cause that much irritation in his fellow countrymen?

“You start shootin' off your gun the way you shoot off your mouth and I'll personally throw you back into a prison cell and throw away the key!” Morrison was practically red in the face. “Now get outa here!!!”

He pulled Heyes forward and gave him a shove back out into the lane way. Heyes stumbled but found his footing and then spotting his Schofield he quickly scooped it up and slipped it back into his holster.

“Alright Marshal,” he grinned affably. “I'll just be waitin' for ya', right over.....”

Another shot rang out and Heyes felt the breeze of it passing by his left ear. He instinctively ducked and then ran back the way he had come in order to find another cover spot. More shots were fired but Heyes could tell they weren't all coming for him; the marshal was busy sending back a rapid return fire in order to keep Mitchell pinned down and give Heyes a chance to make it to cover.

Heyes ducked into another doorway, but checking the door he found it locked and cursed the fact that he didn't have his lock pick with him—time to make that standard issue again! He looked back just in time to see Morrison break from cover and make a charge towards their assailant, shooting as he went.  
Heyes gave a quick shake of his head; he might not care much for that marshal but the man had nerve that was for sure.

He was just about to step out from his hiding spot when another idea struck him and he quickly headed back the way he had come earlier until he got to that narrow opening in the fence again. He turned sideways and scraped his way through it once more just as Cage came out from the back of the original storage room. He did a quick look around the area himself and carried on past the opening in the fence to run after Morrison and the sound of gunfire.

Totally unaware of the near close encounter, Heyes ran down the side alley and back out onto the quiet street again. He made a quick left and started running full tilt, dodging the few pedestrians who were on the boardwalk, most of them looking concerned at the sounds of the gunshots coming from the alleyway behind the abandoned stores. None of them seemed to interested in investigating it though and they were happy to carry on with their own business; the sound of gunfire wasn't all that uncommon after all.

Heyes continued to run past them and into the next block until he came upon another empty storefront where the glass window had been shattered long ago and offered just the right size entrance for an enterprising up and coming private detective. He ran through the front display room tripping on broken toy wagons and other abandoned nic nacs, indicative of young boys coming here to play away from the prying eyes of nosey parents. Might even make a handy 'make out' rendezvous as well if the young lady didn't mind getting a little dirty....my goodness; the things you think about when your mind is racing!

He pushed through another door and sure enough found himself in yet another storage room, this one filled with wooden crates that were all lined up and stacked against the walls. Well, most of them were; there were also a number of them that were broken and strewn about the floor but Heyes dodged those and made directly for the back door. It was locked but he was on the right side of it this time and he simply unlocked it and pushed it open.

He just took a step to exit the storage room when he almost jumped out of his skin when a large, heavy object ploughed into the other side of the door. The door jumped back, hitting Heyes hard on the left shoulder and the side of his head and he staggered over to the right, cursing under his breath. He was able to keep his footing though and grabbing door handle, he shoved it shut and got the next surprise of his life.

Mitchell, who had been running full speed along the side of the buildings had just come up level with the door when Heyes had pushed it open right into the ex-warden's path. Mitchell couldn't believe his bad luck! He cursed inside his head and tried to put on the brakes but it was too late and he collided full force with the wooden barrier. He felt his nose get squashed and he staggered backwards to land in a heap on his back in the wet snow.

He was on his feet in an instant though and when he saw Heyes his anger erupted, his dented and now bleeding nose was forgotten and he came at a charge, fully prepared to do damage. Heyes was recovering from his own surprise but he still had the where with all to block the onslaught though once again he found himself with his back against the wall.  
The two men struggled silently, the hatred that each man felt for the other giving them strength to cause real injury if either one let their guard down. Heyes tried to get himself away from the wall but he only managed to slide sideways, Mitchell staying with him every inch of the way. Then Mitchell made a mistake; he released his hold with one hand in an attempt to get his arm across Heyes' throat in order to choke him. He did manage to get his arm in position and began to apply pressure, but it also freed Heyes up enough for him to get a hand loose and smack the ball of his palm into the already injured nose.

Mitchell gasped and cursed as his eyes watered and he staggered backwards Heyes noticed blood on the warden's arm and hand and wondered how the blood from his injured nose had gotten all the way over there. Then Mitchell lashed out in his pain and anger and landed a stunning blow to the side of Heyes' head. He grunted and slid down the wall to thump down onto his butt. Mitchell sent a quick kick into his torso and was getting ready to land another one when the gunfire commenced once again.

“Hold it right there Mitchell!” Morrison's voice sounded weak and raspy, as though he was fighting for breath. “Don't you move!”

Mitchell however had other ideas and with a snarling glare at Heyes he turned and ran off down the alleyway. Heyes was on his feet again in an instant and pulling his own gun he took off after Mitchell, firing as he ran. Mitchell swerved and ducked and kept on going.

“HEYES! Goddammit!” But then Morrison had to stop, his lungs robbed of breath. He leaned up against the side of the building and doubled over, coughing harshly; the bullet lodged in his lung finally catching up to him.

Heyes carried on, running after Mitchell and firing whenever he found an opportunity. He heard other gunfire coming from behind him and didn't know if he was being shot at or around—and he didn't care! He had Mitchell in his sites and he wasn't about to lose contact now. He fired again and Mitchell staggered but kept to his feet and though limping, he kept on running, trying to make it to cover! His feet hit a particularly slushy spot and his wounded leg slid out from under him and he went down in a sloppy skid. Before he could recover his footing Heyes was on to him.

He grabbed Mitchell by the collar and yanked him to his feet! Heyes' lips were pulled tight across his teeth in an angry grimace and all his pent up fear and frustration over past events exploded in a rage and he swung his revolver down, hitting Mitchell across the head. Mitchell gasped and went down again and Heyes lost his grip on the man's collar, but no problem! He aimed his Schofield straight at Mitchell's head and pulled back the hammer.

Mitchell saw his own death staring him in the face and no one was more surprised than him when suddenly there was another player in the scene! Heyes got knocked off his feet, his revolver sent sliding through the slush. He was back on his feet instantly and before he even thought about what he was doing he charged this new assailant, furious that his retribution had been snatched away from him.

He could hear both Cage and Morrison yelling at him to stand down but he was beyond listening to them and continued on with his attack with every intention of getting his hands around this usurper's throat! Then Heyes felt an instant panic when he recognized Sheriff Sheehan and the thought entered his brain to put on the brakes!

He never had time to put thought to action as the large man simply stepped aside and giving Heyes a shove, sent him head first into the wall of the building and then pinned him there with a vengeance.

Now Heyes was the one who was scared and instinctively he fought to get free! He knew he'd over-stepped the conditions of his parole; he knew he was in trouble. Then he froze and the fear he was feeling closed like a fist around his gut as he heard those dreaded words hitting him like a bucket of ice water;

“Your under arrest,” Sheehan snarled at him. “for attempted murder and assaulting an officer of the law.”

“What....!”

“Shut up! Get your hands behind your back!”

“NO! No, you can't!”

Heyes panicked and started to fight with that extra strength that fear gives you but even at that he was no match for this officer who had him pinned down. Still Heyes struggled until he suddenly found himself face down in the cold slushy mud, his arms being pulled roughly behind his back and the cuffs quickly snapped into place.

“Heyes! Stop fighting!” he heard Cage yelling at him. “You'll only make it worse for yourself! Stop fighting!”

Strong arms hauled the prisoner to his feet where he stood, swaying and shaking with adrenaline and fear. 

Mitchell had hoped to make another run for it in the confusion, but Morrison was onto him before he even staggered half way to his feet. A second pair of cuffs put in an appearance.

“Oh no ya' don't Mitchell,” the marshal snarled at him while still trying to catch his breath. “You're under arrest as well, on the charge of embezzlement and now; suspicion of murder and that's just for a start.”

Mitchell just sneered over at Heyes, triumph shining in his hard eyes. “I still got back at you didn't I Heyes?” he gloated. “You're gonna go straight back to prison now and this time you're gonna die in there!”

“What the hell you after Mitchell!?” Heyes yelled at him. “Why are you doing this!?”

But Mitchell's eyes just turned harder and a slow malicious smile spread across his bloody face. Heyes felt his rage rise up again and he charged the other prisoner but Morrison was quick to step between them. Cage as well as Sheehan grabbed Heyes and pulled him back.

“NO!” Heyes yelled at them in his frustration and he struggled and kicked out in his useless efforts to get at his tormentor.

Cage was onto him in an instant and pushed him back into the wall yet again and held him there. Heyes was breathing heavily, his teeth bared, not wanting to submit but reason telling him that he had to.

“Calm down Heyes,” Cage told him. “Calm down. We've got him now and we'll find out what's behind all this. And we'll get this mess sorted out with you too, so just calm down and stop making things even harder for us. Alright?”

Heyes stood still, his breathing coming in ragged gasped but he did gradually begin to calm down. Finally Cage felt him relax then he nodded and looked up at the detective.

“Yeah. Alright,” Heyes quietly agreed. “I'm alright.”

“Good.” Cage then released the pressure on him and let him up off the wall.

“This is a fine mess!” Sheehan commented dryly. “Morrison, I realize that you are a U.S. Marshal but this is still my town. If there is going to be a running gun battle down the back alleyways it would have been nice if I could have had some indication of what was GOING ON!”

Morrison straightened up at this onslaught, not appreciating being reamed out by a mere sheriff. 

“Though I appreciate you concern Sheriff Sheehan, things got happening here a little too fast for any of us to come and get you!” the marshal growled at him. “Besides that, there were enough constables back at the warehouse shuffling their toes in the dirt that I'm sure one of them could have taken time away to inform you of events!”

Sheehan sighed in frustration as he took Heyes' arm and began to lead him towards an exit from the back lane.

“Great!” he grumbled. “That's what happens when there's too many sheriffs' in the posse! Let's get these two over to the jailhouse and start getting this mayhem sorted out! And you,” the sheriff nodded his chin at Cage. “go get his gun over there. We'll need it for evidence. I suppose we better get the doctor to take a look at these two as well.”

“Doctor!” Heyes tensed and then felt guilty as hell as he realized that he'd forgotten all about the Kid.  
“My partner! I need to find out how he is!”

“It's alright Heyes,” Cage assured him. “Maybe Harry can go over and find out.”

“Oh, no,” Heyes recalled. “I already sent Harry over there. He should know something by now.”

“Alright,” Cage agreed as he stooped down to pick up Heyes' Schofield. “I'll ask him.”

 

Heyes found himself becoming more and more anxious as their little procession got closer to the jailhouse. Sheehan made sure that he kept Heyes moving ahead quickly so as not to encourage curious town folk to stop and have a chat with the infamous outlaw, well—ex-outlaw. But still, folks were watching and talking amongst themselves and that was never a good sign.

All of this attention was lost on Heyes however; his focus and thoughts were going inwards. He hated to admit how scared he was feeling. The press of the cold steel against his cuffed wrists, the solid grip on his arm of a law officer forcing him to go where he didn't want to go. The total, over all feeling of not being in control of his own life and his own choices. The feeling of being vulnerable.

He kept trying to tell himself that he had friends here. He hadn't done anything wrong—well, except assault a sheriff—but let's be fair; Heyes didn't know he was the sheriff until after the fact! Surely that would account for something!! And like Cage had said; they would get this sorted out. Just relax. Don't listen to what Mitchell says, the guy's a raving lunatic! You're not gonna go back to prison. C'mon Heyes, be reasonable. Relax. It's no big deal.

Kid. How was the Kid? Heyes hadn't heard anything. Where was Harry? He should know by now and he must know that Heyes would be worried. What if this turned out just the way it did the last time? What if Heyes got extradited back to Wyoming and he'd never see the Kid again!? No! That can't happen! That was bad enough the last time! He wouldn't be able to handle that again! No...!

Sheehan felt his prisoner tense up and start to slow down. The sheriff tightened his grip and glanced over at him taking note of the paled complexion and the anxious look. Sheehan had learned early on in his career that the sooner you can get a prisoner into a cell, the better. Don't give them a chance to think about where they're going. Take control of the situation and keep them moving. Don't let them stop to reconsider.

“C'mon, keep up,” he ordered. “Almost there, just keep walking.”

True to his word, the group soon arrived at the sheriff's office and Heyes hesitated even more as a real panic threatened to take over his logical thought. Fear took hold and he put on the brakes. Suddenly Harry was in front of him—where did he come from? The two men locked eyes for an instant. But it was an instant of eternity for Harry; an instant of awakening.

He looked into those dark eyes staring back at him and he saw fear there. He'd seen many different moods and emotions from Heyes over the years. Indeed, Hannibal Heyes was a very emotional man, even Harry knew that. He'd seen the whole gauntlet from him, from joking and teasing, to serious, angry, worried, sad and even complacent. But Harry had never seen Heyes afraid before.

It sent a shiver down Harry's spine; that one instant of seeing fear in the eyes of this man who always appeared to be so confident. And then it was gone, Sheehan pulling Heyes forward across the threshold, and the contact was broken. Harry hesitated a moment out there on the boardwalk and waited until Morrison came through, escorting a limping and rather dishevelled looking Mitchell and then Cage following up the rear. Cage smiled at him and motioned for him to go on into the office ahead of him. Harry nodded and entered.

Inside the office Heyes was standing on his own while Sheehan retrieved the cell keys from the safe. The ex-outlaw was so distracted that he didn't even pay attention to the sheriff opening the safe, didn't even think about the tumbler action or what the combination might be. He was numb—he wasn't thinking about anything. Until he saw Mitchell. Then his eyes became hard and he stared the man down until Morrison made a point of keeping the two adversaries apart.

Then Heyes' eyes lit upon Harry again, and this time actually saw him.

“Harry!” Heyes spoke up. “How's the Kid?”

Harry opened his mouth to answer but Sheehan interrupted. “You can discuss that later, let's go.”

Panic hit Heyes again and he looked to Cage with anguish in his eyes. Cage actually kinda felt sorry for him.

“C'mon Cage!” Heyes reasoned. “I'm under your authority—can't I just stay with you? I won't go anywhere! There's no need for this—tell him!”

Cage shook his head. “I'm sorry Heyes but in this matter, my authority doesn't take precedence over an arrest. And these are very serious charges.”

“Well, I know, but....I didn't do anything wrong...c'mon....!”

And so the argument continued while the sheriff escorted Heyes and Mitchell down to two different cells, (with an empty cell between them) and got them settled in. Once the sheriff had removed the handcuffs and returned to the front office, Cage and Harry stayed behind to talk reason to the new prisoner.

“Just relax Heyes,” Cage suggested. “Everything will be taken care of, don't worry.”

“Don't worry!?” Heyes was incredulous. “I could end up going back to prison! And the only thing I was doing was trying to get HIM....” Pointed finger over to Mitchell, who growled back at him. “...into custody so we could put a stop to this vendetta!”

“Yeah, I know Heyes,” Cage assured him. “And like I say; don't worry about it. We'll get it taken care of.”

“Well why can't we get it taken care of while I'm in your custody?” Heyes wasn't going to let this go easily. “Really, I promise; I'm not going to go anywhere!”

Cage sighed and considered the options before them.

“Did you ever stop to consider that maybe a jail cell is about the safest place you could be right now?” Cage asked him.

Heyes looked incredulous. “How do ya' figure that!?”

“What do you think Abi's reaction is going to be once she hears all about what you've been up to today?”

Cage almost broke out laughing at the shocked and worried expression that froze upon Heyes' face. Admittedly, he had not thought of that. Oh no. 'Hell hath no fury like a (Scottish) woman.....' 

“Why don't you just settle in here for the night,” Cage continued to suggest. “I'll try to keep Abi calmed down about this and then when Sheriff Sheehan releases you there won't be a problem.”

“Oh, yeah,” Heyes breathed. “You got a point.”

“Good. So just relax. Like I said; we have this covered.”

“Yeah, okay,” Heyes gave a big sigh and then turned his attention to Harry. “Did you see the Kid? How is he?”

“Oh, yeah Heyes,” Harry told him. “Ah, he's still out cold, but the Doc thinks he'll be okay. Just needs a day or two to come out of it.”

Heyes nodded, obviously relieved. “Oh good. I just wish I could get over there to see him. This is the second time that he's been shot and I've been locked up and not able to get to him. Geesh!”

“Naw, he's fine Heyes,” Harry assured him. “And I hear the Doc is coming over to check up on you two so you can ask him yourself.”

“Yeah, that's true,” Heyes conceded. “I can ask him myself.”

“Okay Heyes,” Cage patted his arm through the bars. “We better go. I'll bring you some dry clothes though so after the doctor checks ya' over you can get cleaned up.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Heyes mumbled. “I am kinda cold.”

“Okay, but I'll probably be an hour or so; I think the sheriff will be wanting our statements and then I need to go and tell Abi what's happened here. Ohh, I'm sure not looking forward to that!”

“Better you than me,” Heyes commented. “I'll see ya' later. Don't forget about me, now.”

“Naw, we won't. I'm sure Abi wouldn't let us anyways.”

“See ya' later Heyes.”

The two men left the cell block and Heyes rested his chin on his arms and let loose a deep sigh. Here he was again. Then his mouth hardened and he sent a rather antagonist glare over to the other inmate in the cell one over.

Up in the office Morrison had just finished giving his account of the events and was heading over to the cafe for some dinner. He needed some down time to relax, his lung was burning from the exertion of running in that cold air and the chance to sit down, have a hot meal and a cold beer sounded just about right to him.

Harry wasn't far behind the marshal. He didn't really have much to report since he wasn't really a part of the major activities so he was quite happy to head out and get some dinner himself.

That left Cage and the detective, tired as he was, knew that this was all part of the game and he sat down at the sheriff's desk and prepared to give his statement.

The sheriff jotted down some note headings on a piece of paper and then looked up at the detective.

“Do you have the suspect's revolver?” he asked. “That is a rather important piece of evidence.”

“Sure do,” Cage agreed as he dug the weapon out of his belt where he had stored it. “Had no trouble finding it where it had fallen in the slush there.” Sheehan nodded as Cage plunked the revolver down on the table. “He really didn't do anything wrong you know,” Cage continued in Heyes' defence. “We were all after the same suspect—we were all trying to bring him down.”

Sheehan sighed and sent a long-suffering look over to the detective. “He is a convict, Mr. Attwater. He is out on parole, but a conditional parole which by it's very nature includes certain 'conditions'! Running down a back alley shooting his gun at anything that moves is far from being one of those conditions!”

“I was also shooting at the suspect,” Cage reminded the sheriff. “You don't seem to have a problem with that.”

“You—I hope—are a trained professional,” Sheehan pointed out. “Mr. Heyes is an outlaw—a loose cannon! There is no way you are going to convince me that he had a right to be involved in that. In fact, Marshal Morrison stated that he told Heyes to get out of it! And if I understand your earlier comments, you also told him to stay out of it—in fact; to stay put! He chose not to. So with him actually shooting the suspect, along with his neglect to let me know who he was upon his arrival in my town, well....let's just say he might be heading back to Wyoming a lot sooner than he expected.”

Cage pursed his lips in irritation but kept quiet, there was nothing else to say. Sheehan relaxed his stance then turned his attention back to the matter at hand. He put down his pen and picked up the revolver that Cage had just placed on the desk top and examined it. “Okay.” He broke it open and closed it again. “Empty,” he observed. “Not surprising. He did a lot of shooting out there.”

“Hmm huh,” Cage agreed.

The sheriff put the revolver down and picked up his pen to start making notes. “Alright. One revolver, empty. Make; Colt 45......”

Down in the cell block Heyes sighed dejectedly and pushed himself away from the bars. He turned to go sit down on the cot and try to relax but then he discovered an opportunity for some entertainment. He stood for a moment watching Mr. Mitchell limping over to his cot and trying to find a way to sit or lay down in such a manner so as not to aggravate his injury. Heyes' smile was quiet but devious. 

“I always knew you were a pain in the ass,” Heyes commented wickedly. “Now the proof is in the pudding as they say.”

“Don't be so cocky Heyes!” Mitchell snarled at him as he tried to sit on his left cheek and keep pressure off the right. “You'll be bleedin' worse than this soon enough—you and your partner both! Bleedin' from the kind of wounds that don't heal. Yeah, soon enough; you'll get yours.” 

Heyes' mouth hardened. “What are you talking about Mitchell!?” he demanded to know as he approached the bars of the cell that separated them. “What the hell are you after!?”

But Mitchell just looked at him and smiled. “You do have a real cute daughter there Heyes,” he commented like a snake in the mud. “It's a real shame.”

Heyes felt fear wash over him and then an over-powering rage. His hands clutched the bars of the cell until his knuckles turned white. But he took control of himself and refused to allow emotions to rule him; only a convict would allow emotions to rule over the mind and body and Hannibal Heyes was pushing himself beyond that state, pushing himself back up to the man he used to be; the man he was slowly but surely becoming again.

“You bastard! You leave my family outa this!” Heyes warned him with a quietness laced with hate. “You're done for now anyways. I don't know why you're doing this but we will find out—even if I havta beat it outa ya'. Well actually, even if I don't have to beat it outa you, I'm gonna beat it outa ya'.”

“Big talk for someone who's stuck in a jail cell, Heyes,” Mitchell observed. “Feeling at home, are ya'? You tried to kill me Heyes. You're not a law man, you're still a convict on a conditional parole; the law is gonna rake you over the coals for this!”

“That's where you're wrong.” Heyes smiled at him, though the humour didn't reach his eyes. “You're the one who will be going back to the prison Mitchell—not me. It'll be good for you; give you a chance to see things from the other fellas' perspective. Just think; you'll be able to re-establish some old friendships. I'm sure there are a lot of our mutual acquaintances there who would just love to see you again.”

Mitchell noticeably paled upon this reflection but he tried to cover it up, having already developed his own little fantasy about how that wasn't going to happen. He shifted uncomfortably, more due to his awkward injury than his emotional state, and he smiled knowingly. He was about to add further comment but was interrupted by the cell block door opening and both prisoners turned to view the new arrival.

Constable Newman entered first, followed closely by an older gentleman who could only be the town's doctor. He just had that look about him and the black satchel that he was carrying pretty much cinched the impression. Heyes smiled in reflection. David was about the only doctor whom he knew that didn't actually look like a doctor. Oh well, he mused; give him time.

“Afternoon gentlemen,” the older visitor greeted them. “I'm Dr. Saunders. Which one of you is hurt the worst?”

Heyes grinned and jerked a thumb over towards Mitchell. “He is, Doc. Don't know how much you're gonna be able to help him though; I'd say that wound's terminal.”

“You let me be the judge of that young man,” Saunders cautioned him and he carried on down to the next occupied cell. “Afternoon,” he greeted Mitchell. “Where are you injured?”

“Bullet in my thigh,” Mitchell informed him while Heyes snorted.

Saunders nodded and stepped aside while Newman unlocked the cell door. The two men entered and the doctor went over to the cot and placed his bag down beside the prisoner.

“Can you stand up?” he asked the reclined man.

Newman came forward and took Mitchell's arm, helping him to his shaky feet.

“My, my, my...”Saunders tutted, shaking his head. “you are a mess.” He glanced over at Heyes who was appreciatively watching the proceedings. “You too! What have you been up to?” He sighed and turned back to Mitchell. “Anyway...drop your trousers please.”

“What?” Mitchell was rather incredulous. “Why?”

“I need to see the injury,” Saunders informed him as though that should be obvious.

“Better get used to it!” Heyes sniped. “Having to strip naked for all to see is a common occurrence where you're headed.”

“I'm not dropping my pants in front of him!” Mitchell insisted with an angry gesture towards his fellow inmate.

Saunders followed the gesture and was met with a pair of innocent brown eyes. “Oh come now! We're not children here. If it'd make you more comfortable just turn and face the other way.”

Mitchell scowled but then shuffled around so he was facing away from Heyes and then Saunders placed himself between the two men, effectively blocking Heyes' view of the proceedings. Heyes smiled at Mitchell's discomfort and outright grinned when Mitchell yelped as Saunders inspected the bullet wound.

After a few quick seconds of examining the injury, Saunders straightened up. 

“Okay, pull up your trousers,” he said. “I'm done for now.”

“What do ya' mean you're done!?” Mitchell complained. “You didn't do anything!”

“I know,” Saunders agreed. “The bullet is still in there. You look like your nose might be broken too so we'll have to do something about that. We'll get you over to my surgery in order to get you cleaned up. I'm sure not going to do it in here.”

“Oh.”

“Aww, that's too bad,” Heyes complained. “I've had some medical training myself. I was hoping to assist.”

Mitchell sent Heyes a scathing look but Saunders chose to ignore the comment. He snatched up his satchel and left the cell, followed by Newman who slammed the door shut behind them. Saunders approached Heyes' cell and took a close look at the inmate.

“You injured anywhere, young man?” he asked.

“No sir.” Heyes answered him. “A few bruises but no broken bones.”

“Well, I better take a look at you anyways. Constable, if you would open his door please.”

“Yessir.”

“Hmm,” Saunders surveyed the man in front of him. “You still need cleaning up and some dry clothes. Do you have any?”

“Yessir,” Heyes informed him. “A friend of mine is bringing some over in a little bit. Hopefully he can persuade the sheriff to get me some hot water and soap as well. I know I look a mess.”

“Yes, you do,” Saunders agreed. “None of that blood yours?”

“Ahh, don't think so.” Heyes looked reflective; he hadn't realized that there was blood on him.

“Fine,” Saunders accepted that. “Take a seat young man and take off your coat.”

Heyes did so and then waited patiently while the doctor pulled up his damp shirt and did a quick examination of the bruised rib cage. Heyes flinched occasionally but never felt the sharp pain that always accompanies a broken rib. Saunders straightened up and took Heyes' chin in his hand and tilted his head up and then he put a finger up in front of his nose and moved it from side to side.

“Follow my finger with your eyes.”

Heyes did so and the doctor nodded with satisfaction. “Okay. Like you said; bruised but not broken. You let me know though, if you don't feel so good later. Sometimes internal injuries take a while to show up.”

“Yessir, Doc. I sure will,” Heyes assured him, then quickly got the medical man's attention just as he was leaving the cell. “Ah, Doc!? What about my friend?”

Saunders furrowed his brow. “Your friend?”

“Yeah, ah...blond fella. Bullet crease on his forehead.”

“Oh! You mean Mr. Curry?”

Heyes grinned; he was so accustomed to keeping their identities a secret that it had not occurred to him to refer to the Kid by name. “Yeah, I mean Mr. Curry.”

“I take it that means that you're Hannibal Heyes.”

Heyes' grin broadened. “Yeah, it does.”

“Hmm,” Saunders nodded. “Why doesn't that surprise me?

Heyes kinda shrugged, feeling a little self-conscious.

“I believe your friend will be fine,” Saunders assured him. “He has a concussion but I expect he will regain consciousness tomorrow. I'm keeping him at my place now just as a precaution. I'll let you know when he wakes up.”

Heyes' smile was one of great relief. “Aw, that's great Doc, thank you.” Then Heyes leaned in to the bars a little closer and motioned for the Doc to do the same. “Ahh, I take it that Mitchell will be under guard while he is being treated over at your surgery?”

“Yes, I expect so,” Saunders assured him.

“Okay. But just make sure that you don't leave him in the same room as my partner, alright?” Heyes cautioned him. “He's got some kind of vendetta against us so just, be careful with him, alright?”

Doc Saunders nodded and gave Heyes' arm an assuring pat. “Don't worry Mr. Heyes, I wouldn't dream of leaving an inmate in the same room with another patient—and he won't be unguarded. Your friend will be quite safe. Don't worry.”

Heyes smiled. “Okay Doc, thanks.”

Saunders nodded at Newman and the two left the cell block together. Heyes pulled his clothing back on; they were damp but still offered some amount of warmth, then he glanced over at Mitchell, the two men locking eyes. They both held the look for a moment before Mitchell smiled and looked away.

Within fifteen minutes Newman returned with a pair of handcuffs and Mitchell was secured and then assisted, limping down the isle and out the door, on his way over to the doctor's surgery to get that pesky bullet removed.

Just as they were leaving Cage walked in carrying a dry change of clothes for the remaining inmate.

“Here ya' go Heyes,” he said as he handed the clothes over to him through the bars. “The deputy is going to bring you some soap and water too so you can get cleaned up.”

“Alright, thanks,” Heyes accepted the clothing. “This place is just crawling with lawmen of all types isn't it.”

“It's the kind of town that needs it,” Cage observed drily. “Anyway, I brought over a couple of your sweaters as well since it looks like that coat of yours could do with a laundering too.”

“My coat?” Heyes repeated, surprised. “I don't think I've ever laundered my coat.”

“Then it's probably due.”

“I donno; if we clean it, it might fall apart.”

“Just hand it over Heyes.”

“Listen,” Heyes began in a conspiratorial tone. “we don't really have to tell anyone about this do we? I mean you did say that you could take care of it and....” He stopped talking as Cage regretfully shook his head.

“I've already sent telegrams to Sheriff Trevors, Warden Reece and Mr. Granger,” the detective informed him. “They all need to know what is going on here, just in case we can't get you out of it—you could be in a lot of trouble here Heyes.”

“Oh.” Heyes' expression dropped as his mind flipped from one of those individuals to the next, doing a quick calculation as to which one of them would be the least disappointed in him. He shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly as he realized that they would each be just as eager as the other to ring his neck.

The two men stood in silence for a moment, Heyes staring distractedly into thin air and Cage watching him. The big detective finally gave a frustrated sigh and the anger he had been trying to keep in check came forth.

“Dammit Heyes!” he scolded. “What the hell did you think you were doing!? You're not a lawman! Jeez—far from it! You're a convict out on a very conditional parole! That means that there are some very strict guidelines that you have to adhere to! Running after a suspect with your guns blazing is far from one of them!”

“He shot the Kid!” Heyes retorted in his own defence. “What was I suppose to do!?”

“Exactly what I told ya' to do!” Cage reminded him. “I told ya' to stay put in the warehouse! Jeez—even the marshal is trying to help you to stay outa trouble; he told ya' to stay out of it! But NO! No—you just had to be right in the thick of it didn't ya!? You might very well have blown your parole here Heyes, what do ya' think about that!? Hopefully Abi and I can take care of things but in the mean time you can be thanking your lucky stars that you have a good lawyer cause you just might be needing him! IF they give him the chance to speak on your behave at all! They don't need to ya' know!”

Any response that Heyes had been building up got lost on its way out when a young officer whom Heyes had not met yet entered the cell block carrying all the vestiges required for a sponge bath. 

“Here ya' are, Mr. Heyes,” he offered, somewhat in awe. “We'll get ya' cleaned up.”

“We?” Heyes asked skeptically as the youngster unlocked the cell door and brought the items in. “I think I can manage to give myself a bath Constable.”

“Ah, it's 'deputy' actually,” the young man corrected him. “And sorry, but somebody has ta' stay in here with ya'.”

“I'll stay with him, Deputy,” Cage offered. “I need to collect the wet clothes anyways.”

“Oh. Yeah okay,” the deputy agreed. “I suppose that'll be alright. Here's a towel.”

“Okay Heyes, strip,” Cage ordered him after the officer had left. “Let's get this over with.”

“I'd much rather have Abi assist me.”

Cage snorted. “I bet. But right now I doubt you'd want her getting anywhere near your sensitive parts if you get my meaning. C'mon Heyes, don't be shy. Just pretend that you're back in prison; hell, it might even be good for you to get accustomed to that routine again.”

Heyes scowled but did as suggested. He wasn't really all that shy anymore, just feeling resentful at the enforced lack of privacy. Still he peeled off the wet and dirty clothing and got himself cleaned up. Cage assisted when he needed to and tried not to notice the numerous scars on the other man's body; scars that were a testament to not only his years as an outlaw, but also to the brutal treatment that he had been subjected to as a inmate under the jurisdiction of the Auburn Prison System.

Yes, he tried not to notice but even he felt a certain amount of anger brewing at the obvious abuses that prison inmates were subjected to. No wonder Heyes was having such a hard time adjusting to things out here and why he held such resentment towards that man in the other cell. Still, Cage had to stay focused on their goal and he couldn't allow sentimentality to get in the way of keeping Hannibal Heyes in line.

Heyes felt Cage's eyes upon him but he chose to ignore the scrutiny; he no longer took it as a personal affront. He dried himself off as he shivered in the cold air and pulled on the clean and warm clothing as quickly as he could. That done, he had to admit to feeling a whole lot more comfortable to the point where he might even be able to relax a little bit. 

“Alright,” Cage mumbled as he gathered up the items. “we'll get these laundered and Abi can hold on to them for now. We'll see ya' in the morning.” Heyes nodded as Cage turned to go, but then the detective stopped in mid stride and glanced back at the reluctant inmate.“Oh, I almost forgot,” Cage told him. “Harris is dead.”

Heyes perked up. “What? How?”

“One of the other inmates threw him off the third floor walkway,” Cage explained. “Seems he wasn't too popular with that group.”

Heyes couldn't help but grin. “Does Mitchell know?”

Cage shrugged. “Don't know,” he admitted. “I sure haven't told him, but he may have heard about it another way. See ya' tomorrow.”

“Yeah, see ya'.”

Heyes settled onto his cot, his arms behind his head as he tried to relax and put the day's events behind him. No such luck. Even with being warm and dry now his mind; as is its want, broke free and went running out of control. He was worried about his partner and wanted to go see him. He didn't care if Jed wasn't awake yet, he just wanted to see him to reassure himself that he was alright. A head shot; that's nothing to take lightly. It hadn't looked too bad but one never knows with things like this. What if he doesn't wake up? What if he wakes up and doesn't remember who he is? What if he has brain damage—can't see, can't walk, can't.....

Damn that Mitchell! Heyes would love to help remove that bullet from his derriere and without the benefit of any sedative too! After what that bastard had done, he deserved no less!

Then Heyes was up and pacing, falling back into old routines—old habits. What had he done? Hands went through hair as he paced back and forth. Oh crap! What had he done? Would they really send him back? If they did, it would be for good—it would be forever. He'd never get out of there again. He felt panic rise up and threaten to choke him. They couldn't! They couldn't send him back! He hadn't done anything wrong—not really!

Surely Abi would stop them—and Lom and Steven. They'd all back him up. They won't let this happen, no. And Kenny too. They'll all back him up—won't they? Pace, pace. Heavy sigh. Plunking down on the cot, rubbing his face with his hands. Oh brother! Was he never going to learn? Was he never going to just back off and let other people deal with things?

Cage had been right—and Morrison, though it stuck in Heyes' craw to have to admit it. Heyes should have just stayed out of it! The law was on to Mitchell then and they weren't going to let him get away and Heyes might have just ruined everything!

Would Abi stand by him if he went back to prison? Why would she? There would be no chance of him getting released again. It wouldn't matter how hard his friends tried and that's if they even bothered to try again. They had all worked so hard to get him released this time and then he goes and blows it!? Oh no. 

Heyes felt a tingling of fear wash over him as he thought about life at the prison—thought about the reality of actually going back there. He couldn't do it again, he knew he couldn't. He'd rather be dead than go back there and nobody is going to use his daughter to manipulate him the next time either! What would be the point? He was never going to see her again anyways. Abi would be so ashamed of him that she probably wouldn't even tell her who her father was.

Fear was replaced by sadness. Oh Anya, sweetheart. I'm sorry. I've let you down. More than anybody else, I've let you down. He felt tears threatening, his throat tightening up into a knot. He'd had his life back again and an even better life being offered to him and he had thrown it all away with his arrogance. He hadn't learned humility at all! He'd just been covering it up, playing the game. Pretending to change his thinking around and he'd fooled them all—himself included. 

He didn't deserve to be out of prison. He was still the same selfish, bull-headed outlaw he had been before his trial. Still having to take control; still having to be the one in charge! Nobody was going to tell him what to do! He was so much smarter than the rest of them, he was running circles around everyone else—well, except Abi—but still; everyone else! Nobody could get the job done the way he could, no no! The great Hannibal Heyes! He'd save the day!

On his feet, pacing. He wasn't going to get much sleep tonight!

 

Supper came and went. Stew and biscuits, well better than beans and biscuits. He wasn't hungry anyways. Coffee? Yeah, no—maybe. I suppose. How about something to read—a book? Perhaps the newspaper? Here ya' go Heyes, coffee and a paper. How about a brandy and an after dinner cigar? No, I don't know how your partner is. Settle down. Yeah, Mitchell's fine, that Doc dug the bullet out no problem. Mitchell and the bullet will both be back here tomorrow. Will ya' settle down so we can all get some rest?

The hours dragged by. The newspaper hadn't offered up anything of any great importance; there wasn't even anything about the great alleyway shootout. Maybe it was too soon to expect a write up on that—maybe in tomorrow's paper. Abi hadn't come to see him. Was she that mad at him? What were they doing while he was stuck in here and the Kid was laid up? Had anyone questioned Mitchell or was he still under sedation? Heyes was looking forward to what that bastard had to say. Maybe he wouldn't end up in prison after all, maybe they'd just hang him. Either way he was dead. Like Harris. Heyes hadn't been able to hide his grin when Cage had told him. Tit for tat on that.

Heyes fluffed up what little there was of what was referred to as a pillow, pulled off his boots yet again and then settled in under the blanket to see if he could actually get some sleep. It was late, he always could tell that just by the feel in the air—it was night; time for roll call, lights out and the evening lock down. He could almost hear those big heavy steel locks clanging into place and locking him into his cell for the night. He lay on his side, one arm cradling his head and he stared at the bars.

Just like at most other jailhouses he'd been a guest of, there was still a dim light shining in the cell block; they never did turn the lamps off altogether. That always bothered Heyes, it never getting dark enough to be black but he'd learned to accept and adjust to it in any case. And here he was again, laying on the cot looking at the bars of his cell through the dimness of the shadows. This was strange; now that all was quiet he'd almost expected a deja vu, but this was nothing like being in that cell at the prison. The whole feel of the place was different. Not quite sure how different, just—heavy. Yeah, that was it. The atmosphere at the prison had been heavy. This here was light and airy, despite the bars. 

Wonder how Miranda's doing. He creased his brow; where had that come from? He hadn't thought about Miranda in quite some time and then he felt guilty about that. He knew he had hurt her and that bothered him because he also knew that in another place and time he could have been very happy with her. But there had been so much going on. Reestablishing things with Abi, finally meeting Anya and then all of these mysteries swirling around them; he just hadn't had any time to stop and think about anything else.

Now here he was stuck in a cell again with nothing to keep his mind in check. It was quiet time; time to reflect, time to ponder. There was nothing coming at him; no problems to solve, no people to chase down—no Abi to banter with. His mind had gone off on its own and ended up coming back with Miranda. He sighed; a deep cleansing sigh and with one last look at the bars of the cell, he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

 

Not surprisingly he slept fitfully, filled up with dreams and mutterings and thrashings about. He was at the prison again and Kenny was standing by him, shaking his head and his finger and telling him that he would have to go stand in the corner now for being such a bad boy. Heyes had shuffled over to where he had been directed looking all woe-begone and Anya was there, giggling at him from behind little hands covering her mouth. This was humiliating.

Morrison had drifted through, not staying long thank goodness but long enough to put in his two bits worth about how he'd always known that Heyes was no good. Outlaw, through and through. No reforming that one—nope. Then he was gone in a whiff of gun smoke, or fog or cloud—whatever; it was just nice that he had disappeared.

Then oddly enough, Belle was there looking very disappointed and telling him that he would be sent to bed without any supper now that he was back in prison. What a disappointment; they'd all had such hopes.....

Heyes twisted and turned, muttering explanations and (yes, even he had to admit) excuses for his foolishness. Could they not just give him one more chance? He'd make good next time—he promised. Just one more chance. Kenny shook his head and his finger. Anya said 'No; one chance was all he got and he'd blown it. She'd find someone else to be her Papa now.'.

Abi and Randa seconded that opinion. 'What a shame.' Abi was saying. 

'Yes.' Randa nodded her head in agreement, then pursed her lips with a look of disapproval drifting across her countenance. “Handsome is as handsome does; as they say. I never would have left William for him.' 

Heyes moaned in his sleep and curled himself into a ball, pulling the blankets up around his shoulders. He was in his cell number 312. He was alone but he could hear people talking down below, down on the work floor. Then, quite suddenly his cell was on fire and he was trapped and he could hear a woman screaming. Oddly enough he wasn't that scared, like it wasn't really him in the fire but he could hear a woman screaming and he thought distractedly that someone ought to do something about that. 

Then Kid put in an appearance just casually walking out of the flames. He was smiling that big open mouthed grin of his and laughing with the blood pouring down his face from a huge gash in his forehead. He didn't seem to notice it. 'C'mon Heyes, it's not all bad. I'll break ya' outa here and we can go back to Devil's Hole. I'm sure that Wheat and Kyle will let us come back and work for them—it'll be fun!'.

Heyes really groaned then and woke up with a start. Damn, that was scary! He lay there for some moments getting his bearings and collecting his thoughts. He wasn't shaking or terrified, it hadn't been a nightmare just a meandering and disturbing dream brought on by the pressing events of his days. He lay there on his side, in a ball and stared at the bars of his cell. He knew where he was and disappointment in himself hit him again and he feared for real that his friends were not going to forgive him this time.

It was still early, not yet dawn but Heyes knew that he was not going to get back to sleep again. He rarely did if something woke him up in the night; without the sedative from David to help him sleep, his brain would just think that it was morning and start grinding on something again and he'd be up for the day. He sighed and settled into his pillow. He had to admit that he was actually feeling quite warm and comfortable right where he was and saw no good reason at all to get up.

Until half an hour later when he had to pee. He sighed again only this time in irritation. When he slept right through the night he never had to pee at this time of the morning, but if he woke up early, like this then all of a sudden he'd have to pee! It was as though his bladder was getting the message from his brain that it was morning and time to get up—therefore....groan! He was nice and comfy right where he was, he didn't want to get up!

Oh man! He must be getting older. Used to be he could just ignore it; pretend it wasn't there and go back to scheming and planning his next job or his next conquest. Not any more! Now it was persistent, refusing to be ignored and preventing his brain from focusing on the important things. Now it was knocking at the door and insisting on being let out!

Finally he couldn't take it anymore! He snaked an arm out from under the blanket and searched around under the cot in hopes of hitting upon the chamber pot or, more likely; an old wooden bucket set aside for that purpose. His hand finally hit upon something wooden and he grabbed it and pulled it out from under and then lay there, contemplating. Well, unfortunately he wasn't quite dexterous enough to do the job from the prone position, so he was just gonna have to get up. So, still holding the blanket snugly around his shoulders, he swung his legs off the cot and stood up—ohh! That floor was cold! Oh, hurry up! Hurry up! Now that his bladder got the idea that it was about to be relieved it really started knocking at the door and Heyes was almost shifting from foot to foot as he quickly undid his belt and trousers and got down to business.

Wasn't this fitting, he thought with his eyes closed while nature ran its course; the last time he had come close to peeing his pants he'd been behind bars as well. The main difference was that this time it had been on account of his own laziness and his refusal to accept the inevitable. Still hadn't learned, he mused as he shook himself off, tucked it away and rolled back into bed—after pushing the bucket back under the cot, of course.

He gave a deep sigh of contentment, let go of a couple of more shivers and then settled in to warm up under the blanket. His eyes felt heavy but then thoughts of the Kid came to invade his rest and his contentment turned to worry again. So instead of falling back to sleep, as he knew he wouldn't anyways, he lay there curled up in a ball and watched the dawn light begin to put in an appearance and listened to the sounds of life beginning to stir in the front office. Then he smelled coffee. 

 

Jed Curry was sitting at the kitchen table, his short legs kicking back and forth as they hung down from the chair still not quite long enough to reach the floor. It was Saturday and his Ma had made pancakes and some bacon from the hog that they and the Heyes family had recently butchered and shared. This was a real treat with the fresh churned butter and a little dollop of honey over the cakes and bacon to help sweeten them up. Yeah—Jed loved Saturdays!

His Ma had just poured herself a fresh cup of coffee and came to sit down beside him at the table. She brushed a long blonde curl away from her sparkling blue eyes and smiled lovingly at her youngest son. He grinned back at her as he stuffed his face with pancake.

She smiled even more and reached out a hand to run through his thick curls.

“It's an important day Jed,” she reminded him. “Are you all ready?”

“Yes ma'am,” he smiled sweetly. “I've been ready for ages.”

“Han is going to be disappointed,” she prophisized. “You and he have been such good friends.”

“Han will understand,” Jed assured her, but then looked worried himself. “I hope he will. He knows he'll always be my friend.”

“Yes. But a decision like this; it could change everything.”

“But it won't change that!” Jed insisted but suddenly his appetite was waning and the pancakes were growing cold. “Will it?”

His Ma shrugged and took a sip of coffee. “It might,” she cautioned him. “Are you sure you still want to go through with it?”

“Well, yeah,” Jed mumbled, feeling disappointed that his mother was doubting him. “Why not?”

Just then the silhouette of a young woman appeared in the open doorway, the summer sun shining brightly behind her, obscuring her features from the two people sitting at the table. Jed looked away from his mother and grinned over at the new arrival. His mother frowned and pursed her lips in concern.

“I don't know Jed,” she commented as she stroked his curls. “She's awfully young for you.”

The silhouette in the doorway moved inside and Beth smiled down at the little boy sitting at the table with his mother.....

 

Jed groaned. Someone was stroking his hair, but his head was pounding. He tried to move but everything ached. Where was he? He was laying down and in a bed, that much he could tell but...he couldn't remember. Who was that stroking his hair? He groaned again.

“Shhhh.”

Obviously someone was with him. “Belle?” he asked quietly.

“No,” came back the quiet response. “I'm Mrs. Saunders, the doctor's wife.”

“Oh.” Kid groaned again. “Where's Belle?”

“I don't know who Belle is.”

Jed slowly, cautiously opened his eyes. He became aware of a damp, cool compress placed across his brow but his head hurt so badly. He tried to focus, his blurry vision refusing to sharpen; he blinked, zeroing in on the bed post hoping that maybe he'd see something that would help him orientate himself. It wasn't working. Who was this woman that was with him? If she didn't know who Belle was then they weren't at the Double J. What had happened?

He licked his lips and swallowed. “Where's Joshua?”

“I don't know Joshua, either,” came back the quiet response.

Jed groaned and licked his lips again.

“Here, take some water.”

He felt an arm come under his shoulders and lift his head just a bit. That started it to really pounding but he was thirsty now that water was under his nose and he drank eagerly from the offered cup. She only let him take so much however, before pulling it back and settling him in again.

“That's enough,” she cautioned him. “Don't want to take too much all at once.”

Kid opened his eyes again and this time his vision was a little more focused. He was able to turn his head and take in the older rather plump woman sitting beside the bed, a gentle smile on her face.

“What happened? Where am I?” he mumbled out.

“You were shot,” she told him bluntly. “A crease, along the forehead. That's why you probably have a pounding headache right about now.”

“Uh huh,” Kid agreed.

“I don't know who Joshua is,” Mrs. Saunders reiterated. “but your friend, Mr. Heyes is over at the jailhouse.”

Kid closed his eyes and groaned again. Oh no! These people knew who they were and Heyes was in jail! He couldn't remember anything, but he must have been shot during the arrest and now they were both in for it! But then the woman's next words really confused him.

“I'll let the sheriff know you're awake now,” she informed him. “Mr. Heyes has been very worried about you and I know he'll want to come over to see you.”

What did that mean? Did she actually think that the sheriff was going to allow Hannibal Heyes out of jail in order to come visit him? More likely now that he was awake, the sheriff was going to come and drag him over to the jailhouse! That didn't sound appealing at all! As much as he'd like to see his cousin and put his mind to rest, he didn't feel like moving anywhere—especially from this comfortable bed to a hard cot in a jail cell!

He felt a gentle hand pat him on the shoulder. “You just lay quiet now,” she told him. “Go back to sleep if you want to. My husband will want to examine you again anyways before you can have visitors but I promise that I will let your friend know that you've regained consciousness. He'll be very relieved, I'm sure.” 

“Yes ma'am....” came the mumbled response. Sleep sounded real good right about then.

 

Breakfast of oatmeal and coffee came and went and Heyes started pacing again. One would have thought that his years in prison would have broken him of this habit, but it still had a hold and he took it up with a vengeance once again. This was driving him nuts. It was late morning and no one had come to visit him! No one was letting him know what was going on. Was Abi that angry with him that she wouldn't even come to visit? She must know how desperate he'd be feeling right about now!

He paced and paced and was beginning to get angry! His pacing increased and he'd actually hit the bars with his fist before turning from them and heading towards the wall again. This was crazy! He couldn't take this—not again! He had to get out he had to know what was going on!

He was just about to start yelling in his frustration when he heard the cell block door unlocking and he pivoted around to face that way, anticipating some news. His heart sank however when the opened door revealed close to the last person he really wanted to see. Newman was escorting a rather pale and sore Mitchell back into the cell block to return him to his incarceration.

Heyes snarled, his mood already foul. “Back to wallow in the mud with the rest of us, Mitchell?” he prodded him. “Why would the doctor bother digging a bullet out of a dead man?”

“That bullet's evidence, Heyes,” Newman informed the ex-outlaw. 

“Yeah,” Mitchell sneered back as he limped into his cell and his cuffs were removed. “Evidence that's gonna send you back to prison Heyes.”

“It's almost worth it to know you're gonna hang you bastard!” Heyes threw back at him. “And you are gonna hang—there's no doubt about that!”

“Heyes, stop goading 'em,” Newman ordered. “Only a jury can decide that—not you.”

“You didn't hear that woman screaming, Constable,” Heyes informed him as his throat tightened with the memory. “It's a sound I'm never gonna forget, I'll tell ya'.”

Mitchell just smiled. No need to give anything away. He went over to his cot, manoeuvred himself painfully into his repose and turned his back on his companion. Heyes scowled and mumbled obscenities under his breath and commenced pacing.

“Newman!” came a voice from the outer office.

“Yeah!”

“Bring Heyes out here!”

Heyes perked up. What was this? Was something finally about to happen?

“Yessir!” Newman responded.

He unlocked Heyes' cell door and motioned the prisoner over to him. Heyes came willingly and Newman snapped the handcuffs on him in front and escorted him out to the office. Heyes smiled when he saw Cage standing over by the sheriff's desk with the two of them looking back at him.

“You can take those cuffs off him, Constable,” Sheehan told him. “We have decided that due to lack of evidence and with his involvement in helping to solve this mystery, he is free to go.”

“OH!” Heyes really brightened up and a grin broke his face in half as Newman uncuffed him. “I'm free to go!?”

“Yes,” Sheehan repeated. “But you're still under Mr. Attwater's authority! Do you understand that!? And no more running gun battles down the back streets of my town!”

“Oh, no, no of course not!” Heyes readily agreed. “Ahh, but why the change of heart? I thought....”

“It appears that the bullet that hit Mr. Mitchell was not from your gun after all,” Sheehan informed him. “It was Mr. Attwater who brought the suspect down, so you're off the hook. Thank your lucky stars your aim was off, Mr. Heyes or, believe me; you wouldn't be going anywhere!”

“Oh.” Heyes almost looked disappointed that it hadn't been him who had fired the crucial shot but he was relieved to be out of that cell and if that meant taking a back seat to Cage, well so be it.

Sheehan stood up and turned to the safe. He quickly worked the dial and opening the door he took out Heyes' holster and handed the rig over to him.

“Here ya' go,” Sheehan said. “It's not loaded and from now on just be careful where ya' point that thing!”

“Yessir Sheriff, I certainly....” Heyes' smile didn't falter, his eyes didn't even blink and he covered up his surprise with a quick cough. “Yeah, I'll certainly be more careful Sheriff, thank you.”

Heyes took the rig and strapped it around his waist. He smiled over at Cage. “Shall we go?”

“Yup. I know Abi's got a thing or two to say to you.”

Heyes' smile dropped as they turned towards the door.

“Oh, one more thing!” Sheehan stopped them in their tracks. “The Doc says that your friend woke up a while ago. If you want to nip over and see him, just for a minute you can.”

“OH!” Heyes' grin returned. “Thank you Sheriff. I will.”

The two men stepped out onto the boardwalk and carried on in silence for about half a block before Heyes thought that it was safe enough for him to venture an opinion.

“You switched guns, didn't ya'?”

“I don't know what you're talking about Heyes,” Cage responded.

Heyes' dimples went even deeper. “Thanks.”

“Don't mention it.”

 

Heyes knocked on the front door of the doctor's residence and he and Cage waited while they could hear foot steps coming down the inside hallway towards them. The door opened and a plump smiling woman greeted them there. Both Heyes and Cage quickly removed their hats and Heyes smiled disarmingly.

“Ah, afternoon ma'am,” he greeted her. “Ah, I was told that I could come visit my friend for a few minutes. Is that alright?”

“Oh. I take it you're Mr. Heyes?”

“Yes ma'am.”

“Certainly. Come on in.” She stepped aside and opened the door for them to enter. She looked up at Cage as he stepped passed her and marvelled at his height. “Oh my,” she smiled nervously, with a hand to her ample bosom but then stepped around them and led the way. “He's just down here at the end of the hallway.”

“Thank you ma'am,” Heyes said to her and he continued on down the hall, feeling a little nervous at what he was going to find, even after all the assurances he'd had from friends and the doctor.

Cage touched his arm to get his attention. “You go on in Heyes,” he told him. “I'll wait out here for ya'.”

“Okay,” Heyes smiled and then opened the door and entered the room, closing the door behind him.

Cage glanced around and locked eyes with the smiling hostess. She blinked nervously but was bound and determined to be sociable.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” she asked.

Heyes closed the door behind him and then leaned back against it, his heart in his throat. Kid looked so pale it scared him a little; he was almost blending in to the white sheets that surrounded him. He appeared to be asleep and Heyes hesitated to approach him not sure if he should wake him up, but still feeling the need to settle in his own mind that Kid was still Kid and that he was going to be alright.

He pushed himself off the door and quietly approached the bed, noticing the raw, ugly gash that sliced across the Kid's hairline. Jed sighed deeply and shifted a little and then through some instinct telling him that he wasn't alone, he opened his eyes to slits and saw his cousin.

Heyes smiled and came all the way forward, putting a hand on the Kid's shoulder.

“Hey Kid,” he breathed with his relief. “How are ya'?”

Kid closed his eyes and groaned. “I've been better,” he said quietly, almost a whisper. “But I'm okay. How about you?”

“Yeah, ah—better,” Heyes admitted as he pulled up a chair and sat down by his friend. “I would have been here sooner but there was a little misunderstanding over at the jailhouse.”

“Oh yeah?” Jed asked, his eyes still closed. “Were they fed up with your antics and going to send you back to prison?”

“Ah, yeah actually.”

Jed opened his eyes and turned his head to gaze at his cousin. “You're kidding,” he said. “I was just joking.”

“Hmm,” Heyes nodded with raised eyebrows. “They weren't.”

Jed looked concerned and actually tried to lift himself up on his elbows. Heyes quickly put a hand on his shoulder again and pushed him back down.

“No no, it's alright now,” Heyes assured him. “Everybody backed me up—even Cage. So, it's alright now.”

“Oh.” Jed nodded and settled back down again. “Okay, good.”

Kid sighed and closed his eyes again; he looked exhausted. Heyes sat quietly, keeping his hand on his friend's shoulder until Jed's breathing became quiet and regular, suggesting that he had gone back to sleep. Heyes was just about to get up and leave him when a quiet question came up to him.

“Did ya' get 'em?” Kid asked, his eyes still closed.

“Who?”

“Mitchell! Did ya' get 'em?”

“Oh yeah Kid. We got 'em.”

“Good. Has he said anything?”

“No, not yet.”

“Hmm.”

“He will. We're getting close to the end of this thing Kid. I know we are.” Heyes smiled. “You and Beth have a wedding to get to.”

Jed smiled. “Yeah. Not too soon though; gotta let my hair grow to cover up the scar.”

“Oh well, the ladies like a scar,” Heyes ventured. “So long as it doesn't mar a handsome face. Besides I thought you'd be pleased to have a scar there.”

“Pleased?” Kid furrowed his brow and instantly regretted the action. “Why would I be pleased Heyes?”

“Well, cause now ya' got one just like mine!” Heyes teased him. “Kinda brings ya' up to my level!”

Kid opened his eyes and sent him a bleary version of 'the look'. 

Heyes grinned at him innocently. “Beth is going to find ya' totally irresistible now.”

“Beth already finds me totally irresistible Heyes—I didn't need ta' get shot in the head to accomplish that.”

“Yeah, well; every little bit helps.”

This gentle bantering would have carried on for some time if a knock on the door hadn't interrupted them. Heyes glanced over that way as the door quietly opened and Dr. Saunders put in an appearance.

“My wife told me our patient had a visitor,” he explained. “May I come in?”

“Oh, yes. Certainly Doctor,” Heyes smiled at him. “He's looking good. How long before he'll be up and about?”

Saunders came over to the bed and looked down at his patient. “Well, perhaps tomorrow, but nothing strenuous. He'll need to take it easy for a couple of days. No running around through back alley's”

“Ah.” Heyes was never going to live that one down.

“Come and join us for tea in the kitchen when you're done, Mr. Heyes,” Saunders invited him. “But don't be too much longer, he needs to rest.”

“Yes, of course,” Heyes agreed as the doctor smiled at his patient and then left the room. Heyes turned back to his cousin. “I guess I should leave ya' alone.”

“It's alright Heyes,” Jed mumbled, his eyes getting heavy. “You can....stay...a while....longer.....”

“Uh huh.” Heyes just stood and quietly watched his friend as he slowly drifted off into sleep again. He smiled and gave him another soft squeeze on the shoulder. “I'll see ya' later Jed.” 

Heyes gulped heavily as Cage knocked on the door.  It was only Abi, so why was he so nervous?  The door opened and a pair of accusing, affronted, brown eyes stared into his.  They flicked up to Cage.   
“You’d best come in.”  Abigail turned on her heel and walked back into the room, leaving them to follow her stiff, tense back.   
The hotel room somehow seemed different, even though he’d shared that bed with Abigail the night before his arrest; it seemed more formal and sombre, and right now it seemed unlikely he’d ever share a bed with her again.  
Cage’s blue eyes glanced from one to the other, drinking in the outraged silence as he folded his arms.  “Do I need to stay to keep order?”  
Abigail arched her brows.  “No, Cage.  Please leave us.”  
Heyes felt the nerves flutter in his stomach, her stillness screaming at him across the void of mute grievance.  
They watched the door close slowly behind Cage before Heyes turned to face her.  He swept his hat from his head and proffered a contrite smile.  “I’m sorry, Abi.  I was stupid.”  
“Sorry?  I bet you were, especially when you didn’t know if you’d get out of there.  And yes, you were stupid; but I don’t want to argue with you about that – you have so much more experience in that area.”  
“The need to get Mitchell just ran away with me, Abi.  I had to get him.  He was the man who was behind everything that happened to me in prison.  I just got swept up.”  
Her face remained stony.  “You were warned.  Cage told you to stay with Harry.”  
“I know,” Heyes shrugged.  “But I didn’t know if I could trust them to get him.  They didn’t need him to be caught as much as I did.”  
Abigail snorted in offended surprise.  “Trust?  I trust Cage with my life and Anya’s.  I wouldn’t work with him if I didn’t!”  
“I know...”  Heyes ran his hand distractedly through his hair.  “I know that now, but then?  I thought,  maybe, that it was just a job for him.  It meant more for me.”  
“More?  What kind of people do you think work in law enforcement?  We’re not just in it for the money – it’s not like working at a grocery store or a bank!”  
“I know,” he shook his head dejectedly.  “I’m an idiot.”  
“Five years in jail is enough to teach just about anybody a lesson, but it appears that pigs will fly before you learn anything.”  
Heyes arched his eyebrows.  “Well, I guess we found out that pigs’ll fly with enough thrust.  Mitchell was mine.”  
Her eyes widened.  “You want to get clever, Mr. Heyes!?  It’s a shame that couldn’t happen yesterday.  You’re a day too late.”  
“Abi, you’re too quiet.  I prefer you kicking and screaming when you’re angry.  At least I know what you’ve got on your mind.”  
“Do you, now?  Maybe I’m too tired.”  Her eyes softened, but her voice became more vehement.   “I thought that was it.  I really thought you were going back to jail, I was scared.”  
“Me too.”  He stepped towards her.  “You didn’t even come to see me, Abi.  Why?”  
“Why?  Two reasons, Mr. Heyes; one – I wanted to strangle you.  Two – I’ve been up all night making sure that my version of events reached the governor of Wyoming’s ears, and not anybody else’s.”  
“The governor?”  
“Yes, Mr. Heyes.  I was speaking with him on the telephone machine.  He was not pleased at all!  I had to convince him that you were assisting in the chase - and absolutely nothing else.  I also had to persuade him your enthusiasm had been provoked by the fact that he tried to kill me and your daughter, and you’d just tried to rescue that poor woman from the burning building.”  
Heyes’ eyes widened.  “And you persuaded him?”  
“Partially – Cage swapping the gun helped,” she shook her head, “and if he hadn’t done that, they’d have known the Schofield bullet came from your gun and not his.”  Her eyes glittered with emotion.  “WHY!?  Do Anya and I mean less to you than revenge?  Did you only want to get out here so you could hunt him down?”  
Heyes rattled his head from side to side in denial.  “No!  Not for one second.  I was sick to my stomach at the damage I’d done.”  He watched her walk over and drop on the bed, her head in her hands.  “Abi, I’d never hurt you deliberately – there’s just a part of me that always thinks I know best – even when I don’t.”  
“I know!” Abigail declared before she rolled her eyes ,“but I don’t want to know it.”    
“Thank you, for helping.  I really have learned my lesson.”  
Abigail glared at him.  “I wish I could believe that, I really do.”  
“Abi, I had a stupid moment!  He tried to kill everyone I cared about, and I’ve already lived through that.  I couldn’t take it anymore.  I wanted to grab him by the throat and make him tell me why he’d done this.”  He sat beside her, fear gripping his heart.  “I’ve learned something – sometimes you have to stop being sorry and really make the changes.  Give me that chance, please!”  
She looked up at him, her glistening eyes on the brink of tears.  “We’ve got him now.  You don’t need me for the investigation now.”  
His stomach turned over.  “What are you saying?  You want to leave?  Don’t do it, Abi.  That’s not why I’m with you.”  He reached out and clutched her hand.  “Please, what do I have to do?”  He turned anguished eyes up to the ceiling.  “Damn it!  Why do I have to be such a stubborn idiot!  Cage tried his best to stop me, short of cuffing me to a post.”  
Abigail sniffed back tears and gave him a watery smile.  “Is that what it’ll take?”  
“Maybe, real attachment, something deeper?  I want us to get married, Abi, that’s what matters to me, more than revenge.”  He reached out and embraced her, cradling her to him.  “I was so scared I’d lost you.  Please don’t go.”  He felt her breath, heavy and emotional against him.  “I’m not used to being in a relationship, and I’m still learning how that works.  Give me a chance.”  
She pulled back.  “You’re nearly forty.  You’re a bit old to being going through puberty.”  
Heyes gave rueful smile.  “Yeah, I’m a late developer.  I’ll never do anything like that again.”     
She flicked up an eyebrow.  “You’d better not.  There’ll be no more chances – I’ve had to get heavy with the Governor just to get him to listen to me and he’ll be pretty unforgiving if anything happens again.”  
Heyes frowned.  “What did you do, Abi?”  
“He wouldn’t speak to me at all until I reminded him that there was evidence of the governors using you during the period of the amnesty agreement, as well as Lom’s word.  I also had to remind him that the populace might be very interested in the role the Pinkerton agency played in getting him elected.  I told his staff he could speak to me or read about it in the press.”  
Heyes’ eyebrows rose.  “Really?  Is that wise?  Robert Pinkerton might stop providing resources for the investigation.”  
“Robert Pinkerton is covering his own backside because he also knows what’ll hit the press if he doesn’t.  Cage very much agrees with me on the political meddling, and fiddling elections, along with the suppression of workers in labour disputes.”  Her mouth set in a determined line.  “That’s the book Cage is planning in writing when he leaves the agency, and Robert Pinkerton is set on damage limitation.  He doesn’t want deals with notorious criminals to target his rivals in the mix too.  He’s hoping to claim regime change for everything Cage publishes.  He’s going to blame his father.”      
“So the governor spoke to you?”  
Abigail nodded.  “At length - we came to an agreement that you would be released as long as the bullet in Mitchell’s butt didn’t come from your gun.”   
Heyes dropped his head, realising just how much he owed Cage.  He nodded slowly, “It’s hard to learn to trust, Abi.  I’ve spent my whole life not being able to trust anyone but the Kid.”  He reached out and stroked her face.  “Give me a chance, Abi.  Please.”  
She blinked back tears.  “It’s like picking up a toddler who runs so fast they fall over.  What am I going to do with you?”  
“I don’t think either of us slept well last night.”  He tucked a crooked finger under her chin and tilted her face up to his.  “Let’s go to bed and talk when we’re thinking straight, huh?  Let me hold you.” 

To Be Continued.


	10. Dark Corners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens

Heyes propped himself up on an elbow and looked down at her sleeping form, cherishing the warm softness of her curves and the silken memory of skin on skin.   
She had forgiven him; the reminder that he had been pursuing the man who wanted to rob him of a second family had poured oil on troubled waters, but Heyes had learned an important lesson. The world didn’t snap to attention at his word. If he wanted a place in this new life he’d have to prove himself and work for it – nothing would be delivered on a plate, not even a family. The message that freedom came with responsibility had finally been rammed home - thirty nine years too late – but better late than never, huh?   
He picked at her curls. There were now a couple of silver strands amongst the lustrous dark curls. A faint smile twitched at his lips at the memory of his shock at the grey which had appeared around his temples on his own re-growth after being released from prison, but, hey – he was nearly forty.  
Time had been kind to her – he reflected with a sinking feeling in his gut that it was about time something or somebody was. He had bought that matter-of-fact, business-like front too, until he’d seen how much she really cared about people – especially the ones who had turned their back on her for getting involved with him.   
Heyes idly played with a tendril of her hair, winding the corkscrew around his long forefinger, part of him still not believing she’d allowed him back in her bed. Nearly forty, and the first time he’d even been close to settling down; but then he’d never seriously thought about it before. He hadn’t even thought about reaching forty –he never looked ahead at all. That was his whole problem – the only planning he’d ever done was around how to grab the cash and make a clean getaway. He’d never looked at the bigger picture or the implications his actions might have on the rest of his life – and he’d done it again yesterday. He had to grow up. Anya was probably more sensible than he was. He’d thrown away his youth, and he had to be more careful with the rest of his life. Yesterday’s close call had focused his mind.   
Abigail stirred and turned over, snuggling into the snowy pillow before reaching and stretching into a yawn. Her eyes flickered open, quickly hooking onto Heyes’ gaze as he leaned over her.  
“Morning,” he murmured, gently.   
“You’re watching me sleep?”  
“Hmm,” he nodded. “I never thought I'd see that again.” Heyes dropped a light kiss on her nose. “Not without committing a felony.”   
Abigail blinked away the sleep from her eyes. “The good times aren’t the mark a of strong relationship - it’s how you deal with the bad ones.”   
“And god knows I’ve given you enough of those.”  
“Neither of us are perfect, Mr. Heyes.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief, “although I’m closer to it than you are.”   
Heyes’ face split into a grin. “Yeah, you want to fight over that?”  
Abigail propped herself up to a sitting position. “No. Losing yet again will only bring you down. What time is it?”  
“Ten past two.”  
Abigail shot bolt upright. “In the afternoon?”  
“Yes. You needed to sleep. You’d been upset - and up all night.”  
“But I have to get over to the jail. We need as much as we can from Mitchell before he’s extradited to Wyoming.” She threw back the bedclothes.   
“You need to eat. Have you had anything today?”  
Abigail shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”  
“I’ll go down to the kitchen. I’ll bring you up a sandwich and some tea while you dress.”  
Abigail smiled softly. “Mr. Heyes, you don’t have to start running around after me. It’s behind us. Let’s just learn from it and move on.”  
Heyes pulled on his trousers. “I’m not...” He shrugged. “Well, maybe I am, but you still need to have something. I’ll get over to the doc’s while you’re out and see how the Kid’s doing.”  
She pulled a brush through her hair. “I’ll pop over once I’m finished at the sheriff’s office. Can you give him my love? He was unconscious when I went yesterday.”  
Heyes nodded. “I sure will. Do you think Sheehan will let you get involved in the questioning?”  
“Cage will certainly be allowed, and I plan on offering to transcribe all his statements.” Abigail’s reflection smiled from the mirror. “Hopefully, he’ll think I’m useful.”   
“He’s no fool. He’ll let you in.” Heyes button up his shirt. “I’ll go get that tea.”

An hour later Heyes was practically skipping through the snow and mud as he made his way over to see how his cousin was doing. He was bundled up in his usual ambiguous coat but for some reason, the fact that it had been freshly laundered seem to make him feel young again. It just felt so—new! It was still his old coat, still not quite sure what colour it wanted to be but now it was downright sparkling in its indecision. Heyes felt good.  
He hopped up the stairs to the doctor's front door and pulled the chime.  
“Coming! Coming!” came the feminine voice from inside. Heyes waited, feeling a little unsure at that point. He couldn't tell if the lady of the house had said 'Coming' or 'Come in'! The question was soon answered for him when the front door suddenly swung open and the plump smiling face of the doctor's wife greeted him. “Ohh! Mr. Heyes! Yes, yes do come in.”  
Heyes grinned and removing his hat he stepped into the front hallway.  
“Is my friend awake?” he asked hopefully.  
“He was!” she assured him somewhat unhelpfully. “Such a hearty appetite!”  
“Hmm hm.” Heyes gave a knowing smile and nodded. “Ahh, may I go back and see him?”  
“Oh, of course!” she waved him along the hallway. “My husband is out on his rounds right now, but I'm sure he'll be back soon if you wish to ask him anything.”  
“Such as when my friend will be ready to leave? That sort of thing?”  
“Yes!” She smiled broadly at this young—well middle-aged man's astuteness.  
Heyes inwardly rolled his eyes but outwardly smiled. “Yes, ma'am.”  
“Well, I'll leave you to it,” she told him with a knowing smile. “I have my own duties to tend to in the kitchen.”  
“Yes ma'am,” Heyes repeated and headed down to the end door on his own. He knocked softly and opened it just a crack. “Kid...?” No answer. He opened the door a tad more and peered inside. He sighed and smiled quietly has he saw the Kid laying on the bed with his eyes closed—apparently asleep.  
He stepped into the room, gently closed the door and tip-toed over to the chair and lifted it into position again. He was just sitting down in preparation of a wait when he saw the blue eyes opening up to greet his. Heyes grinned.  
“Hey, how ya' doin'?”  
Kid nodded. “Okay.”  
“Good. The doc's wife says you've been eating. That's a good sign.”  
“Yeah.”  
“Your headache gone?”  
“Oh, pretty much. Still feel kinda wrung out though.”  
“Yeah, not surprised. You want me to leave ya' alone?”  
“No.”  
Heyes smiled again. “Ya' want anything?”  
“Some water would be nice.”  
“Oh.” Heyes looked around and seeing the pitcher and cup setting on the side table, he stood up and poured out a serving.  
Jed started pushing himself up into a sitting position and Heyes quickly turned to help him. He grabbed an arm and pulled his friend up and forward and pulled up the pillows so they'd give him a good backrest and then settled him back into them.  
“Thanks,” Jed smiled quietly. “That's better.”  
Heyes handed him the cup of water. “Here ya' go.”  
“Hmm, thank you.” Kid took the cup and drained the contents in one go and handed the empty vessel back to his cousin.  
Heyes glanced at its emptiness with a slight look of surprise on his face. “You want any more?”  
“No, that's good.”  
“Okay.” He sat back down again. Kid settled his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes. “You sure you want me to hang around? I can always come back later.”  
“No Heyes. I want ya' to stay.”  
“Okay.”  
“Found out anything from Mitchell yet?”  
“No,” Heyes told him. “I think they're going to be questioning him this afternoon. Abi's making sure she's going to be in on it, in any case.”  
Jed smiled. “She'll make him talk if anyone can.”  
“They won't let me get near him—more's the pity.”  
“Ha!” Jed opened an eye and directed it at his cousin. “Best you stay away from that Heyes, or they really will send you back to prison.”  
“Yeah, I suppose.”  
The two men sat in companionable silence for a few moments with Heyes watching his friend with a slightly concerned expression settled between his brows.  
“I was hoping you could get out of here today, but you still look kinda piqued,” he observed. “Maybe ya' oughta stay here another night.”  
“Yeah, I think so,” Kid agreed. “I don't feel like moving anywhere; not even across the street to the hotel.” Then he smiled and though his eyes stayed closed, the smile became a chuckle.  
Heyes grinned in response. “What?” he asked.  
Jed gave a deep sigh. “I remember when you took that hit—like this one,” he reminisced. “I asked ya' when ya' thought you might be up to travellin'.” He smiled again. “You admitted that if I had everything figured out that you wouldn't mind resting a day or two, but that if I didn't, then you were ready to go—anytime! I'll always remember you sayin' that Heyes because you looked so done in that a kitten coulda beat ya' up and yet you were willin' to drag yourself up onto a horse and get outa there if we had to.”  
Heyes smiled and nodded sheepishly. “Yeah, that's what I said. I don't think I coulda done it though, even if the house had been on fire.”  
“I know,” Jed assured him. “It's just the fact that ya' said it. Now I appreciate the sentiment even more, ‘cause I don't feel like going anywhere's!”  
“You still feel up ta' talking?”  
“Yeah,” Kid assured him. “How's Abi? She forgiven you your transgressions?”  
Heyes raised his brows in appreciation. “Yeah!” he answered. “She was mad at first but we talked it out. I really showed her who's boss by grovelling at her feet and pleading for forgiveness.”  
Kid snorted and then groaned with regret as a shot of pain thumped through his head. Heyes grimaced in simpatico. The pain subsided and Kid sighed again. “I guess we're gonna havta get used to that, aren't we?” he conjectured. “Learnin' how ta' compromise and all that.”   
“Yeah, I suppose,” Heyes admitted. “It's all part of being in a relationship, isn't it? I guess neither of us have much experience in that.”  
“No,” Kid agreed. He was silent for a moment, contemplating and Heyes waited for the rest to come out. “Do ya' think I'm doing the right thing, Heyes?”  
Heyes furrowed his brow. “With what?”  
“Gettin' married.”  
Heyes furrowed his brow even more. Where was this coming from? “You having doubts?”  
“I wasn't,” Kid admitted. “But now....she is awfully young.”  
“Well, yeah but...nothing wrong with that Kid,” Heyes assured him. “Lots of fellas take wives who are a lot younger. Look at Miranda....”  
“Yeah, and now she's a widow.”  
“That wasn't because of old age, Kid; you know that,” Heyes reminded him. “William got sick.”  
“Yeah.”  
“What brought this on? You were real sure before.”  
“Yeah, I know. But....do ya' think my ma would approve of her?”  
Heyes' jaw dropped in astonishment. That was the last thing he expected to hear coming out of his cousin's mouth. “Well....ah....I mean....” Heyes was noticeably speechless but this time Kid didn't feel smug about it. The self-proclaimed genius quickly recovered himself. “What's not to approve of Kid? Beth is a real fine young lady, from a good family. I think your ma would have taken to her as if she were her own daughter.”  
Jed looked over at his cousin, a smile on his lips and hope in his eyes. “Ya' think so?”  
“Yeah, of course!” Heyes smiled and gave his cousin a light punch on the shoulder. “C'mon, you're just feeling rattled cause of gettin' shot! You'll see—you'll be feeling better once ya' get on your feet again! You and Beth will be good for each other—you'll see.”  
Jed nodded. “Yeah. Will we still be friends though; you and me? Ya' know, getting married might change that between us.”  
“I don't see why it would,” Heyes assured him, though truth be known, he had been a bit concerned about that himself. “We're gonna start that detective agency, right? We'll still be partners. Abi and Beth can help out as well—well, until more children start showing up that is...but we'll still be friends Kid—that's not gonna change.”  
“Yeah.” Jed sighed, feeling relieved but still a bit trepidatious. “I guess you're right.”  
“Of course I'm right,” Heyes stated matter-of-factly. “You just get some rest and you'll be feeling better tomorrow, you'll see.”  
“Yeah, alright.” Jed sighed a deep exhausted sigh and closed his eyes again.  
“I should go,” Heyes commented, feeling like he was deliberately preventing his cousin from resting.  
Jed jerked himself awake again and grabbed Heyes' hand to stop him from leaving. “No!” he insisted and Heyes raised his eyebrows in surprise. “No. There's something else I been meaning to talk to ya' about, but with all this other stuff goin' on—haven't had much of a chance.”  
“Oh,” Heyes sat himself back down in the chair and waited. “Sounds serious.”  
“Yeah, well. Maybe,” Kid admitted as he looked with tired eyes over to his cousin. “I just wanted to ask ya' how you were doing.”  
“Ah, doing?” Heyes creased his brow. “Ya' mean with the prison scare....?”  
“No, I mean with Carson.”  
“Carson?” Heyes felt a prickling of fear go through him; had that injury caused brain damage after all? “Carson's dead Kid, you know that.”  
“Yeah, and you killed 'em.”  
Heyes shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Yeah. What's your point?”  
“C'mon Heyes, it's me!” Kid sounded insulted. “You've never killed anyone before in your life and then you not only killed Carson, but you killed 'em up close and personal. I know that's gotta be eatin' at ya'.”  
Heyes swallowed nervously and looked down at his hands. “Carson was a bastard; he deserved it.”   
“Yup,” Kid nodded, in full agreement. “Yup; after all the things he did to you and killin' Dr. Morin and everything else that's comin' to light; yeah, he deserved it. Was probably gonna hang anyway, or at least do prison time which would be the same as a death sentence. And I'm sure those are all the things you've been tellin' yourself whenever ya' feel the guilt takin' hold.”  
Heyes still could not meet his cousin's eyes; why was Jed pushing this? Didn't he have enough to deal with as it was? “I'm fine,” was all the enigmatic, self-proclaimed genius could say.  
“C'mon Heyes, I know you,” Kid persisted in persisting even though he was fighting sleep. “You just push things down so deep you pretend they don't exist anymore and that nothin' bothers ya'. This is exactly what you did with Jenny.”  
Heyes looked up sharply, surprise vying with sudden hurt flashing across his eyes.  
“Aww, I'm sorry Heyes,” Jed apologized. “I know all that stuff was hard on ya'. But it does show my point. You bury hurtful things so far and so deep that even you forget they existed. It's no good Heyes. If there's one thing I've learned from David and all that crap I went through; it's that ya' gotta talk about it or it's gonna eat ya' alive.”  
Heyes dropped his eyes again and fidgeted with his hands. “There's nothing to talk about,” he lied. “Carson was a bastard and he deserved it. It was either him or me and personally I'm glad it was him.”  
Jed gave a big tired sigh. “Yeah, okay Heyes,” he surrendered. “But when you feel like you wanna talk about it, just know; I know. Ya' know?”  
Heyes gave a half crooked smile. “Yeah.”  
“Good.”  
“Ahh, you want me to read to ya' or something?”  
“Read to me?!”  
“Yeah, why not?” Heyes shrugged innocently. “The doc's got a pretty good library here, I'm sure I could find something.....”  
Kid smiled but shook his head. “Naw, that's okay Heyes.” He yawned. “I think I'm just gonna get some more sleep if ya' don't mind.”  
“Oh” Heyes sounded disappointed. “Yeah, sure Kid. I'll come by after supper and see ya then, okay? Abi would like to see ya' too, would that be alright?”  
“Yeah, okay.”  
Jed settled into his pillows again and closed his eyes. Heyes stayed seated and watched him until he fell asleep and then he still stayed seated, not quite ready to get up and leave yet. That had been an odd conversation right from beginning to end. He and Beth had been champing at the bit to get married and now all of a sudden he was having doubts? It must just be because he's tired, Heyes surmised; he couldn't think of any other two people who so much belonged together. Well, other than himself and Abi, of course!  
And he was worried about their friendship? Getting married wasn't going to change that. Look at their own families—the Heyes and Curry clans had bonded even stronger as the families had grown, even buying farms next to one another and working to build them up together. They had almost been like a corporation! The families would still be close if—that—hadn't happened. Heyes was sure of it.  
Then he had to go and bring up Carson! Geesh he really was feeling the blues these days. 'Carson! That fucking prick!' came to Heyes in Doc's voice and he smiled. He hadn't had a dream about the Doc in some time now and Heyes kinda missed him—didn't miss those night terrors though. No! So, they must have done something right for Doc to have stopped haunting him, but now was Carson going to take over? Heyes had to admit that Kid had hit it right on the head. Whenever he did have time to think about it, he felt guilty; all those times he'd dreamed about throttling Carson's throat and now that it had actually come to pass, he was feeling guilty about it? Geesh!  
And all the excuses and reasonings that Kid had verbalized had been the ones Heyes had been telling himself, over and over again. Heyes sighed and watched his cousin sleeping. Yeah, it made sense that Kid would know—of course he would. Maybe one day Heyes would be able to open up and talk to him about it. One day when all of this stuff was behind them they could sit down on the porch at the Double J over a class of wine and they could talk about it. Maybe.  
Well, that's if Jed didn't back out of his wedding! They probably wouldn't be welcome at the ranch if he did that at this point. Oh, maybe that's not true. Jesse and Belle would understand but Beth! Beth would be so hurt now if Jed backed out. He wasn't going to, was he? After all this time and all this waiting he wasn't going to break Beth's heart and back out of it?  
'No' he wouldn't do that; Heyes was sure of it. He loves Beth; he wouldn't do that. He was just tired right now, that's all it was.  
Yeah, Jed was just tired. 

 

The men gallantly stood as Abigail walked into the sheriff’s office. Cage smiled warmly and offered her the seat he had just vacated. “This is the lady I was telling you about. Abigail, this is Mayor Schmidt.”  
The Mayor stepped towards her, bristling a grey handlebar moustache over a tobacco-juiced smile and pumped her arm enthusiastically. “Mrs. Stewart? A pleasure and an enigma, I can tell you; and a woman working in the law? A woman who makes a science of it? My wife couldn’t make sense of anything more complicated than a quilt!”   
Abigail arched an eyebrow. “Oh, please, Mayor Schmidt, you mustn’t put yourself down like that. I’m sure your mind is a bit more complicated than a quilt.”  
The mayor’s bushy eyebrows wavered, unsure whether to be confused or offended. He settled on confused. “Huh?”  
Abigail caught the warning glint in Cage’s eyes and decided to play nice. “I mean that a man who has reached the heights of mayor is too smart to saddle himself with a dumb wife, but your modesty is most becoming.”  
“Ah, sure...” he patted Sheehan on the back. “Only three weeks since this man was voted in and he bags a criminal like this. Joplin’s going to be a fine town by the time he’s finished with it.”  
Abigail nodded. “Yes, indeed. I had some dealings with his predecessor, Sheriff Andrews. He wasn’t keen on listening to a woman. Mr. Sheehan has a more open mind.”  
“She knows her stuff,” shrugged Sheehan. “That’s all I care about.”  
“Still, a woman in that line?” mused the mayor. “I’m not sure that it’s decent.”  
“My late wife was a Pinkerton, Mayor Schmidt,” growled Cage. “There was never a finer woman walked God’s good earth. She cared about people and making sure victims were listened to, and so does Mrs. Stewart.”  
“Well, sure,” the mayor eyed the enormous man uncomfortably. “I guess women and children can be victims too, sometimes.”  
“So what brings you here?” Sheehan took a seat.  
“We know that Mitchell will be sent to Wyoming and we need to question him as soon as possible. I have interviewed Mr. Heyes, and Mitchell continued to make threats to his daughter while they were incarcerated here. He made it clear that the danger is not over, even now he’s locked up.” Abigail looked from the mayor to the sheriff. “There’s still someone out there willing to kill innocent people because they have a connection to Heyes and Curry.”  
“Well, if you fly with the crows, you get shot with the crows, I guess.” The mayor stood. “I’ve got no objections to him being questioned by Mr. Atwater, but a woman?” Schmidt shook his head. “Nah, that’s a step too far.”  
Abigail nodded. “I couldn’t agree more, mayor. I’m here purely to offer to transcribe what he says in the interview so we all have a copy. I wouldn’t get involved in any way. That’s why Mr. Atwater is here. I know my place, as I’m sure Mr. Atwater can attest.”  
Cage’s eyes widened as he tried to hide his disbelief. “Yeah... your place...you’ve sure mentioned that.”   
“I dunno...” the mayor scratched his chin. “What if he swore or talked about anything improper?”  
“Then I will leave immediately, Mayor Schmidt, and I have two very fine lawmen here to protect me from Mitchell.”  
The mayor gave a sharp nod and headed for the door. “It’s up to you Sheehan. I’ve got every faith in you. I backed you in the election for this role and you’re doing a great job, a real fine job!”  
Abigail turned wide, pleading eyes up to the sheriff. “So, can we question him? What do you say?”  
Sheehan folded his arms. “And you’ll keep out of it?”  
Abigail pulled on her most innocent mask. “Absolutely.”   
Sheehan expelled air through his nose and shook his head. “Sure, why not? I get the feeling you’ll be way more annoying if I don’t.”  
“I don’t annoy you, do I? I like you, Mr. Sheehan, I really do,” a pair of brown eyes glittered with contrived hurt.   
Sheehan walked over to the filing cabinet and pulled open the top drawer. “I guess ‘annoy’ isn’t quite the word, but any woman who can make Hannibal Heyes panic at the mere mention of her name’s better on my side than against me. I saw him in the cell. That was one worried man.” 

 

“If we’re going to question him from the cell, I’ll sit here.” Abigail took up position on the bunk in the next cell and carefully balanced the inkwell beside her.  
Sheehan placed two chairs outside of Mitchells’ cell. “Well he’s not much for sitting since he had that bullet removed from his butt. At least this way he can lie down.”  
“It’s my upper thigh!” Mitchell protested.  
Sheehan scowled at the prisoner. “This man put it there, and it was slap bang in the fleshy part of your backside. It’s funny how some injuries’ll get you less sympathy than others, not that you deserve much in any case.”  
Mitchell turned his fair head to Abigail. “Who’s she? What’s she doing here?”  
Cage sat; his blue eyes boring into Mitchell. “Ignore her, she’s my assistant. I’m a Pinkerton and she’s here to write up this interview.”  
Mitchell dropped his head wearily on the pillow. “I’m saying nothing.”  
“No?” Sheehan rocked back on the chair. “You shot your own kin in both legs and left her to burn to death as a distraction so you could get away. The bullets from Mrs. Stanton’s body have been matched to your gun, and her husband has told the sheriff in Jacksonville that she was coming to see you. You’re gonna hang. ”  
Mitchell’s eyes widened. “The bullets?”  
“Yeah, your Smith and Wesson. You never thought we’d be able to match them, did you?” Sheehan grinned. “Things are moving ahead all the time. I’m guessing a man like you won’t have it easy, incarcerated in his own prison. You might be kept separately if you cooperate.”  
Mitchell sat stewing in silence.  
“So,” Cage began, “tell me about this vendetta against Heyes and Curry.” It was a command, not a question.  
“Vendetta?” Mitchell parried.  
“Yeah. Carson paid Harris to shoot Beth Jordan. He was real frank about that, and Carson was careless, so it was real easy to prove you were paying him. Why?”  
Mitchell shrugged. “We knew the Curry and the Heyes families from before the war. They helped some of our slaves to escape. After the war we were ruined, and I guess I might have been hard on Heyes because of his folks. I don’t know anything about payments to Carson or Harris.”  
Abigail’s brows gathered, but she kept her head down.  
“So you’d met Heyes and Curry as children?” Cage pressed.  
“Nope.” Mitchell shook his head. “I never met either of them in my life before Heyes was committed to my jail.”  
“But you had a grudge against Heyes? You can’t blame him for the war,” Cage pressed. “What you’re telling me doesn’t make sense. You were on different sides – so what? Most of us were.”  
“I’d seen Heyes’ father speak. What he was saying was going to ruin our family and my pa hated him with a vengeance. I guess it doesn’t help that Heyes looks so darned much like his father. I just took against the man.”  
Abigail spoke at last. “The transcripts from the trials show that Jed Curry killed Julia Stanton’s father. He was one of the men who hit both the Curry and the Heyes homesteads. The records state that the women and girls were raped and everyone slaughtered. Hannibal Heyes and Jed Curry witnessed it, and were the only survivors. Julia Stanton was your niece, wasn’t she, Mr. Mitchell? Those men were your family too.” She paused processing this information. “So Hannibal Heyes’ father was actively against slavery? So were many. Why were they targeted above anyone else?”  
“How should I know?” barked Mitchell. “I was just a kid.”  
“Were they a bit more active than most? Did they actually help slaves escape?” Abigail demanded. “Your slaves? Did they target the way your family treated their slaves, for instance? It clearly went way beyond politics.”  
“I thought she was just here to take notes,” Mitchell protested.   
“Your folks raped and murdered families because they disagreed with slavery?” snorted Cage. “And you’re trying to use that to justify torture.”  
Mitchell scowled. “Torture? The man was impossible - he needed the strongest of punishments just to make him manageable.”   
Cage hooked Mitchell with a glacial stare. “The authorities didn’t agree with you, and neither do I. I’ve seen the scars left by your ‘punishments’ and read the transcripts of the hearing. If you think they were reasonable you won’t mind being left in a strappado position for hours yourself, will you?”   
Panic flared in Mitchell’s eyes. “Did you hear that, sheriff? He’s threatening me.”  
Sheehan swung casually back on the chair. “Me? All I heard was the runt of a family of murdering bastards being asked to justify torture.” He turned to Abigail. “My apologies for the language, ma’am. Did you hear any threats?”  
Abigail looked down at her notes. “Nope. No threat here. Everything’s above board as far as I’m concerned.”  
Cage leaned forward in his chair. “In fact, your treatment of Heyes provoked your removal from your position, and the authorities then found out you’d been skimming off money from the prison accounts for years.”  
Mitchell shuffled uncomfortably on his bunk.   
“Do you need some more morphine, Mitchell?” asked Sheehan.  
“Yeah, I’m in pain,” moaned Mitchell.  
“Then you’d best get this interview over with.” Sheehan gave a meaningful grin. “I’m not gonna have you claim you were under the influence of drugs and didn’t know what you were saying.”   
“You bastard! You’re leaving me in pain to make me talk!”  
Sheehan shook his head. “The doctor gave instructions on the exact times you should get your drugs. I’m not running an opium den – this is a jail. Now, apologise to the lady. We’ll have less of that language.”  
“That’s alright, I can turn the other cheek,” Abigail murmured, eyeing Mitchell’s bandaged buttock. “Which is more than Mr. Mitchell is able to do at the moment.”  
“So, you were behind the jailbreak?” Cage mused. “And all those who gave evidence against you were to die.”  
“I’m saying nothing,” Mitchell insisted.  
“We’ve got you for your niece’s murder anyway.” Cage folded his arms. “One thing doesn’t fit though. Hannibal Heyes is insistent that you threatened his daughter. You made it clear to him that locking you up did not mean this was over.” Cage stood and began to pace. “Now that tells me somebody else is still out there and everything I know about you says you’re a petty-minded, spite-filled, bully who’d be quite happy to see an innocent, little girl killed just to even up the chips on his shoulders.”   
“She’s Heyes’ spawn!” barked Mitchell. “A criminal’s bastard! You make her sound like little Eva.”  
Cage’s eyebrows arched in surprise. “You read ‘Uncle Tom’s Cabin’ did you? Did daddy approve of the subject matter?”  
“’Course I read it, they made us read it at school. It was a load of sentimental, maudlin rubbish!”   
Cage nodded. “Yeah, a bit on the sugary side for my taste, but way better than ‘The Planter’s Northern Bride.’ What a load of tripe - but we’re not here to discuss literature. Back to Heyes’ daughter; who else is involved in this with you?”  
“Nobody! Fuck off. This interview is over.”  
Sheehan glanced over at Abigail, uncomfortable with a woman hearing this kind of language, but she merely fixed Mitchell with a hard stare. Abigail smiled sweetly. “It may interest you to know that Mr. Heyes’ daughter is no longer in the country, Mr. Mitchell. Her mother has taken her to Europe to get her away from all of this. You won’t be able to do anything to her. The child is beyond your reach.”   
Mitchell’s jaw fell. “Gone!?”  
Abigail and Cage shared a smile of satisfaction. She had hit a nerve, and while they still didn’t know who was out there; Mitchell had unwittingly confirmed that he had been counting on harming Anya from his jail cell.  
“Yeah,” Cage confirmed. “England, or Ireland – somewhere like that. She has folks there.” His blue eyes twinkled wickedly. “Disappointed?”  
Mitchell’s shoulders slumped. “Why should I care?”  
“Yeah, why should you?” Cage’s eyes narrowed, a smile playing over his lips. “But you clearly do. It looks like another part of your plan’s coming undone, Mitchell.”  
“I’ve got no plan! Give me my morphine.”   
Abigail stood. “Yes. Give him his morphine, Sheriff. I don’t think we’re going to get any further with him, so we may as well leave him to the hangman’s noose.”  
“Fucking bitch!” screamed Mitchell.  
Abigail smiled serenely. “I’ll watch you hang, Mr. Mitchell, and I’ll know it’s an evil put to rest. You’re the kind of murdering scum who has even turned his family against him by killing his niece in the most dreadful manner.”  
“The Mitchells’ will still stand against a court - we’re family - blood!”   
Abigail nodded. “Julia was a very emotional woman, wasn’t she? I don’t think she’d have been very good at keeping big secrets.” A wicked smile spread over her face, “and Ed Stanton’s not a Mitchell, is he? My guess is that he’s a very angry man. He loved his wife.”  
Mitchell began to shake, his face pale with anger. Cage grinned with satisfaction. “Yup, Ed Stanton knows who it is alright, you just told us that as sure as a written confession.”  
“And you were careless enough to transfer money in a way which could be traced to Carson,” Abigail tucked her notes under her arm. “My guess is that you were arrogant enough to send telegrams and maybe even arrange meetings with your co-conspirators using your real name.” Abigail watched her words land on the wounded man like a blow before she and Cage shared a conversation in a glance. “You can let your secrets moulder in that grave with you, Mr. Mitchell, you’ve told us what we want to know without opening your mouth - and guaranteed that you’re not segregated in prison due to lack of cooperation to boot. Shall we go Mr. Atwater?” Abigail slipped a hand through Cage’s arm and allowed him to escort her from the cell block. She glanced over her shoulder at the quivering prisoner. “We arranged to meet Mr. Heyes for dinner to celebrate his release without charge. Goodbye, Mr. Mitchell – until your hanging.”  
Sheehan followed them back into the main office. “No wonder Heyes looked so worried. We’re not usually so rough on them when they’ve got a death sentence hanging over their heads. They tend to become a suicide risk.”  
Cage gave Abigail a hug before she dropped into a seat. She sighed deeply and looked up at him with large, tired eyes. “My eldest daughter was killed in an act of revenge, Mr. Sheehan. She was shot in her pram when we walked in the park. This hits home with me.” She shook her head wearily, staring off into nowhere. “I don’t regret a word of it.”

 

“Kid’s doing well, but I think he needs a couple of days before he’s up and about.” Heyes pushed his empty plate away. “I can’t wait to leave this place.”  
Abigail nodded, toying with her glass. “I don’t blame you. It’s been eventful.”  
“Yeah, that’s one way of putting it.” He sighed. “What is it Abi, you’ve been on edge all night? What have I done now?”  
“You? Oh, Mr. Heyes, you haven’t done anything. I wanted you to eat before I asked you something.”  
Heyes brows knotted in concern. “Eat? Why?”  
She reached out and clasped his hand. “Because you’re still too thin, and you don’t eat when you’re upset.”   
A knot of anxiety formed in his chest. “What, Abi!?”  
“Something came up during our interview with Mitchell. He’s related to Julia Stanton.”  
Heyes nodded. “I know – now.”  
Her fingers caressed the back of his hand. “Mr. Heyes, were your parents involved with the underground railroad?”  
Heyes shook his head in confusion. “My pa was, yeah. He was quite political.” He ran a hand distractedly though his hair. “Why?”  
“Mitchell was taken to hear your father speak when he was a child, Mr. Heyes, and he had a profound effect on that little boy, but his family appear to have indoctrinated him with the view that the Curry and Heyes families were instrumental in their ruination. That carried through to the way he felt about you in prison.”  
Heyes blinked, emotion still confounding his thought processes. “Huh?”  
“Apparently you look a lot like your father, and that got under Mitchell’s skin. He had it in for you from the start because of the family rivalries.”  
Heyes frowned. “My family never had a rivalry with anyone. My pa got involved in politics, he spoke at meetings – but so did a lot of folks.”  
“And Mr. Curry?”  
Heyes bit into his lip. “He was more – hands on.”  
Abigail nodded, looking deeply into his eyes. “So the two families were vehemently anti-slavery. Your father was the campaigner, and Mr. Curry was a man of action?”  
“What are you saying? That I was tortured because Mitchell hated my pa?”  
“Did you ever see black people being hidden?” Abigail persisted.  
Heyes eyes turned into absent lenses as he examined his memory. “Yeah, but there were none there when the place was attacked.”  
“Mr. Heyes, I think your families were targeted because of their support for the Abolitionists. They even handled some of the Mitchells’ escaping slaves, and your family’s activities still resonate with Mitchell to this day, he took his frustrations out on you.”  
“You mean there was a reason?” Heyes gulped heavily. Why were tears pricking at his eyes? “It wasn’t just mindless violence? For me - and for what happened all those years ago?”  
She clasped his hand tightly. “Is that worse or better?”  
Heyes shook his head aimlessly. “I dunno? Better – maybe? They made a difference? I need to think.” He stared at her with whirling eyes. “Kid’s too sick for this right now.”  
“I know, a’gràidh. I had to tell you. You do need to know the truth.”   
Heyes’ mobile frown reflected his turbulent thoughts. “Folks used to say pa was a great speaker. He always said there was no point in talking about general principles – you had to grab them by talking about how things affect one person – the one they could relate to the most.” He nodded absently, memories crowding back.  
“I wonder? Did he choose an example which hit too close to home for the Mitchells, as well as helping their slaves to escape?” Abigail smiled. “That’s something to be very proud of. He was obviously making a difference – otherwise, why target him?”  
She watched his dark eyes drop down to the tablecloth. “But they didn’t just target him, did they?”   
Abigail shook her head. “No, they didn’t. We can’t change the past. Mr. Heyes – we can only learn from it.”  
“And what can we learn from this? They’re all dead. It’s too late.”  
“We can learn what sort of stuff you’re made of - and I can see your father in you – you are a wonderful speaker and you have a nimble mind.” She paused. “We also have it reiterated, as if we needed it, that our children depend on us to keep them safe – even if it means doing something different.”  
Heyes’ eyes filled with shame. “You already knew that, Abi.”  
“I grew up in a loving family. You grew up in a home and fending for yourself from a very young age; you know it too, and always have, but if you’re honest with yourself you’ll see that you only took responsibility once it was forced under your nose.”  
Heyes bristled. “What do you mean by that, Abi? I’ve looked out for people. I’ve looked out for you.”  
“I mean you would look out for people when you knew nobody else would.”  
Heyes bristled. “That’s a bit harsh.”  
She smiled apologetically. “Is it? I didn’t say you didn’t look after people. I mean that responsibility is a lesson you only seemed to have partially learned – arrested at a certain point in development.” She patted his hand. “You’re passed the most recent nightmare, but I think you still have to push through the earlier one. It still affects you. Knowing how can only be a good thing.”  
Heyes scowled, privately agreeing with her, but not liking the way she hit the nail on the head. “What about the Kid? Is he the same?”  
Abigail shook her head. “No. You have a mercurial mind, but Jed picks up on emotions, and reads people very quickly – faster than you. It’s one of the things which made him such a good gunman. You prefer logic to feelings, and like most of us, you stay within areas where you are most comfortable. Sometimes being smart isn’t an advantage – you can hide behind all those plots and facts.”  
Heyes sat back. “And what area do you stay in, Abi? You hide too.”  
She dropped her eyes. “I’m scared to open up. I always end up getting hurt – I found it was just easier not to go there at all.”  
His fingers curled around hers. “Me too; I guess it’s time for us both to grow, huh?” 

 

“Hannibal Heyes! I told you to set this table, I won’t ask again.”   
The boy’s bottom lip pouted and he crawled out from underneath the table. “Yah didn’t ask last time. It was an order.”  
His mother’s blue eyes flashed in his direction as her Irish lilt sharpened. “What did you say?”  
The boy shrugged knocking the shoulder strap of his dungarees down his arm. “Nothin’.”  
She nodded knowingly, but a twinkle of laughter lay deep in the blue eyes smiling down at him. “Keep it that way. Now if you want pancakes, you’d better get the table set.”  
The boy’s face dimpled into a grin. “Pancakes? Yeah, I do!”  
His mother picked at the strap, pulling it up on his shoulder. “Oh, not again. I kinda regret saying you’ll grow into those.” She dropped a tray full of cutlery in the table. “There you go...”  
“What was that?” Mrs. Heyes raised her head in alarm, picking up on the sound of gunfire and the beat of horses hooves. She bustled over to the kitchen window, blanching suddenly...  
Hannibal felt himself grabbed by the strap of his voluminous dungarees and thrust into the pantry. “Get behind those sacks and stay there!”  
The boy wandered to the back as instructed, his stomach swirling with anxiety. He could hear horses screaming, men shouting, and his mother was yelling at his sister to load the rifle faster against a fusillade of bullets, but he slunk back, frozen with fear. The piercing scream of his baby sister stimulated him into action; he stumbled forward, dragging back the curtain, his breath rasping with trepidation.   
“Ma!?” The tears spilled over until they trailed down his cheeks and his trembling chin.  
His older sister was sitting on the floor, pushing ammunition into a rifle. She glanced over at him and shook her head, bidding him to get back.  
“Hannibal!” His mother embraced him, her voice lacerated with despair. “PLEASE! For once in your life do as I tell you. Get in there! Hide for me. Please...” She thrust him back into the pantry. “My love, please just hide and stay safe for me. No matter what you hear, do not come out.”   
She closed the curtain again... the baby was still crying but it mingled with desperate, hellish screaming...  
“Mr. Heyes!” He felt himself shaken by both shoulders. His eyes flickered open, suddenly finding himself drenched in sweat and gasping for air. “Mr. Heyes, it’s me.” He felt Abigail’s arms encircle his shoulders and her lips soft against his ear as she whispered reassurances. “Sshh, it was a dream, A'ghaol. Was it your doctor again?”  
He sat up; surprised to find the hand he put to his forehead still shaking.  
“Was it the doctor? Your friend?” Abigail repeated.  
“No,” he mumbled. “It was my mother and sister.” The crying baby suddenly shot through his mind, grating on his nerves and jolting down his spine settling his psyche alight. “Sisters. There were two of them.” He swung his legs over the side until his feet rested on the cold floor. “Two of them. Jennifer - the baby, we called her Jenny.”  
He felt a soft hand slip into his and fingers gently sweep the hair away from his forehead in the dark. “We’ll still call her that, Mr. Heyes. And we always will.”  
“I haven’t dreamed of that day for years.”  
“Well, considering our conversation at dinner it’s hardly surprising, A'ghaol.”  
He gulped down a rasping breath. “These are different to the nightmares I had before. Those were showing me something – this was just...” He shook his head in confusion, his eloquence eluding him.  
“Memories?” Abigail whispered.  
“Yeah, memories.” He sighed deeply. “D’ you know what I’ve got to get, Abi?”  
“No. What?”  
His fingers tightened around hers. “Better memories.”

 

Abigail lifted the Kid’s tray away and joined Cage on one of the chairs by the window of the hotel room.  
“So? What do you think, Kid?” Heyes asked from the end of the Kid’s bed.  
“It makes sense.” The Kid sighed heavily and relaxed back on his pillow. “I thought it’d be good to get out to the hotel, but I didn’t know this was waitin’ for me. That explains why so many clues kept poppin’ up – it wasn’t one person – it was a group, all with their own reasons for hatin’ us.” He groaned. “Poor Beth, when I think of what happened to her. Why didn’t they kill me if I was the one they hated?”   
“A woman’s hate is more convoluted than a man’s, Jed.” Abigail sipped at her coffee. “Julia knew you’d suffer more if you saw all those around you harmed while you stood around helpless. I have no doubt you would ultimately have been harmed too. After all, Mitchell intentionally targeted you when he knew he was trapped. We were just lucky that his aim was off.”  
“Evil,” hissed Harry from his perch on the window sill.  
Abigail shook her head. “Damaged – by what she had seen, and a lifetime of indoctrination by her family. I have no doubt she had also been told of the Curry and Heyes part in her family’s decline – just like Mitchell. They had been taught to hate. Conditioned and trained to have one blind, bigoted perspective.”  
The Kid nodded. “And Mitchell’s was more straightforward. He hated Heyes and punished him.”   
“A more masculine take on revenge.” Abigail put her coffee cup down on the table. “Men and women think differently, and commit crimes in different ways. Again, I have no doubt that Mr. Heyes’ death was the eventual motive there too, but the torture? He was playing with him for a very long time. I think that was to hurt poor Jed again.”  
“And it worked,” the Kid murmured.  
“So there’s still someone else?” Harry asked.  
“He made a point of letting me know that,” muttered Heyes.  
“And I made a point of telling him that Anya has been taken to Europe by her mother.” Abigail smiled. “His disappointment was palpable, so he clearly had intentions in that direction.”  
“The question is,” Cage sat back and crossed his legs by propping his foot on the opposite knee, “if they think Anya’s gone – who will they go for next? We have to find them and fast. We can’t guard everyone you’ve ever known.”   
Heyes nodded. “So, what’s the plan?”  
“I’ve contacted the prison authorities and they are looking into all the meetings Mitchell had since the trial. They’re also looking into the history of any telegrams sent either from the prison or personally. The warden is collating these for me. Harry and Curry can wait here until Curry’s well enough to travel to collect them. I want you to contact me the minute you get anything significant.” Cage’s blue eyes burned meaningfully across the room at Heyes. “You are staying with me.”  
Heyes smiled and nodded. “Sure, and I’ll do exactly what I’m told. I’m real grateful, Cage.”  
Cage’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “What are you up to?”  
“Nothing.” Heyes smiled ruefully. “You’ve all been working so hard for me, and I almost ruined it all. I was stupid – just plain dumb – and I’m not too proud to admit it.”  
There was a collective open-mouthed gawp of amazement before chuckles resonated around the room. “What!?” demanded Heyes, indignantly.   
“It’s funny,” Abigail giggled.  
“What is?”  
“Only you could be so proud about bein’ modest,” laughed the Kid.   
Heyes turned wounded eyes on the group. “I can’t win, can I?”  
Abigail stood, dropping a hand on Heyes’ shoulder. “Aw, don’t let them get to you.”  
“Them? You’re the worst, Abi.”  
“We’re just not used to it, that’s all.”  
Cage sat back with a grin. “I’m just glad that you’ve finally realised whose side I’m on.”  
Heyes nodded. “Yeah, Abi’s – I know you don’t like me. I was a thief- so that’s fair enough - but in this case, Abi and I have the same at stake.”  
Cage’s smile chilled. “Not true. I’m also on the side of justice. Yeah, you were a criminal – but you’ve done your time, and you’ve been wronged. As long as you stay on the straight and narrow I’ll be behind you.”  
Heyes tilted his head, considering the reply. “I suppose it’s as good as I’ll get. I’m still grateful, Cage, and I won’t let you down.”  
Cage stood. “Good. I’m going to go to Jacksonville to question Ed Stanton. I haven’t decided whether or not Abi will be of any use. He might think we entrapped Julia if he sees her.”  
Abigail started collecting coffee cups, putting them on the tray. “We promised the doctor we’d let Jed rest. So let’s leave him in peace.”  
“Yeah, I am a bit tired.” The Kid smiled at Heyes. “So we split up again, huh?”  
“For the last time, hopefully.” Heyes watched Abigail usher Cage and Harry through the door. “I’ll just be a minute.”  
Abigail looked down at the cousins together, recognising their need for time alone together. “Sure, don’t wear him out.” She walked over and dropped a kiss on the Kid’s curls, squeezing his shoulder gently with her right hand. “It’s good to have you back. You gave us all quite a scare, you know. Sleep well.”  
The partners watched the door close behind her before their eyes met.   
“An eventful few days, huh?”  
Heyes nodded. “That’s what Abi said.” Heyes’ eyes became more intense. “So what do you think about what happened to our folks?”  
“I tell ya, Heyes. I haven’t had time to think about it too hard. All I can tell you is my gut instinct. I felt proud – real proud – then I was suddenly ashamed.”   
“Yup, that’s pretty much how it hit me too, Kid.”  
The Kid shrugged. “We should’ve been better men, Heyes. They gave us their names, and look what we did with them.”  
Heyes fell silent, that was something he hadn’t considered. Sometimes his taciturn partner had a way of cutting through the claptrap and getting straight to the point. “They died standing up for their beliefs and for other folk. What do we stand for?”  
“I guess we’ve got to decide that, and then prove it to folks.” The Kid pressed his head back against the pillow.   
“Yeah.”  
They sat in silence for a while, enjoying the comfort of the others’ company before Heyes spoke again. “Do you ever wonder what we’d have been – how we’d have turned out?”  
“Sure, but not very often – it makes my head hurt.”  
“Yeah, me too, Kid. Me too.” Heyes smiled. “Do you ever lie awake at night wondering where it all went wrong?”  
“I used to - until I figured out it’d take a lot more than just one night.” 

 

Cage gave a huff of annoyance when Abigail opened the door. “A wig? What’re you up to, Abi?”  
“I’m going to see the minister’s wife.” She hooked on a pair of round pebble glasses and smiled through carefully yellowed teeth. “I’m going to be a relative of Julia’s. If we’ve come back to Jacksonville I might as well see what I can find out, and she was very friendly with Mrs. Wutherspoon. I can pitch my reason for contacting her as an enquiry about the funeral, but not wanting to disturb Ed at this time. Who knows? Julia might have confided in her – it’s worth a try. We’re here anyway.”  
“Yeah,” Cage nodded in agreement before gesturing towards Heyes with his head. “What about him though?”  
“He’s got a book. He’ll be fine.”  
“So? He had a book in Joplin – that didn’t stop him marauding through the back streets like some kind of Wild West Show.”  
“He gave me his word,” Abigail replied.  
“Yeah?” Doubtful blue eyes glittered at her. “He did the same to me. Look what happened.”  
“I am here you know,” Heyes snorted indignantly.   
“And that’s where I want you to stay,” Cage sniped back. “The main thing I’ve learned about you is you’ll behave under constant supervision or cornered like a rat in a trap. Otherwise, you’re a loose cannon.”  
“Yeah, but this time I mean it, Cage.”  
Cage scowled. “So do I. What’s that saying, ‘Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice – I rip your head off...?’”   
Heyes arched his eyebrows. “That’s not quite the way I remember it.”  
Cage shrugged. “Maybe it’s a prediction?” He strode over and clicked a handcuff around Heyes’ wrist before attaching it to the bedstead. “You can go, Abi. I’ll be down at the local sheriff’s office. Ed Stanton has agreed to meet Sheehan and me there.”  
Abigail dropped a light kiss on Heyes cheek. “I’ll let you out when I get back and we can go for some tea. How does that sound?”  
Heyes slumped back on the pillows with a bitter sigh. “Don’t be long.”  
“It’ll take as long as it takes, Mr. Heyes. You can’t rush these things.”  
Heyes watched her fasten on a small cape and leave the room with a flirtatious wave. His eyes drifted up to Cage. “You need to learn to trust people, Cage. There’s no need for this.”  
“Maybe,” Cage picked up the chamber pot and placed it on the night stand so it was within easy reach for the manacled man. “But there may be a need for this – depending on how long it all takes.”   
Cage paused, staring down at his prisoner. “What’re you smiling about?” The blue eyes scanned the scene before Cage bent and started to search.  
“This is ridiculous, Cage! I was having a relaxing read. What’re you looking for?”  
“This!” Cage announced triumphantly, pulling out a lock pick from Heyes’ belt. “I knew you’d have one on you! C'mon, stand up!”  
“What are ya' talking about!?”  
“Get on your feet Heyes!” Cage demanded and then by way of showing he was serious he grabbed hold of the front on Heyes' shirt and hauled him to a standing position.  
“Aww, c'mon!” Heyes complained. “Ya' found the lock pick, what else do you want!?”  
“Marshal Morrison warned me about you,” Cage informed him as he thoroughly gave the ex-con a rather intrusive body search. “Said you always kept more than one of these things on you and since he's the only law man who's ever gotten you to trial I figure he's someone worth listening to!”   
Heyes stood with barely tolerated acquiescence as Cage started at the top and worked his way down; he ruffled the dark hair, checked behind ears, along the collar, down each arm and into the cuffs, re-checked the belt and then patted down each leg. Heyes called it quits when the Pinkerton began rummaging through his boots.  
“Alright!!” the hard put upon man yelled in frustration. “Just give me a minute!” Heyes sat down again and dutifully pulled off each boot and handed them over.  
Cage ran a hand thoroughly over the inside and then down along the seams of the outside, stopping once with a triumphant grin as he slid a second pick out from hiding. He held it up and cocked an eyebrow at his charge.   
Heyes rolled his eyes and frowned. “FINE!” he grumbled. “So I carry them on me again! So what!? Doesn't mean I would use them to get away—I gave you my word.”  
“Hmm hm.” Cage didn't sound convinced. He finished up inspecting the second boot and then gave them back to Heyes. Heyes grabbed them, grumbling about the injustice of it all and commenced to pull them back onto his feet—not always an easy thing to do with one hand cuffed to a post! Cage looked around the room and spotted Heyes' black hat sitting on the night table. “One more thing to check,” he commented dryly.   
Heyes gave a resigned sigh. “Yeah, go ahead! Why not!” he grumbled bitterly. “This is the thanks I get for trying to help out....”  
Cage ignored him and picking up the hat, gave it a very thorough search along the brim and inside the band. Nothing there, so he turned the hat over and ran his hand inside the crown and then smiled as he felt something hard and slender nestled in between the silk lining and the felt. He glanced over at Heyes as he pulled out his pocket knife and prepared to do damage.  
“Oh no! C'mon!” Heyes protested. “That's a brand new hat!”  
“Just a little nick Heyes,” Cage assured him. “Just to see what you have tucked away in here.”  
“Alright! There's one in there, just don't....ohhh....”   
Cage dug the point of his knife into the silk and gave it a little twitch and then smiled again as he pulled out another lock pick. Heyes was really ticked now and his mouth was set in a hard line of irritation.  
“That was a brand new hat,” he grumbled.  
“It's still a brand new hat,” Cage assured him. “Nobody can see the snip—it's on the inside. Nobody'll know.”  
“I'll know.”  
Cage plunked the hat back down on the night stand and came back over to the disappointed prisoner. He stood there for a moment and just stared down at him.  
“What!?” Heyes finally demanded in frustration.  
“Do I have your word that you don't have any more lock picks on your person?” Cage asked him.  
“I don't see how you could even question that!” Heyes retorted. “If the search you gave me had been any more thorough Abi would have reason to be jealous!”  
Cage just smiled at him. “No one to blame but you Heyes. You keep giving your word that you're going to behave yourself and then as soon as the opportunity arises, you break your word. First off you went charging after Carson and damn near got yourself killed and then you did the same thing with Mitchell. It's not going to happen again if I have anything to do with it.”  
“I mean it this time,” Heyes insisted. “That scared me, being back in a jail cell with no way out. I don't ever want to be in that position again. I mean it.”  
“So I have your word,” Cage persisted. “And you won't try to leave this room.”  
“YES!”  
Cage smiled and nodded. “Good.” He turned and strode from the room, hesitating briefly to deliver a parting shot. “And just to help you keep that word, I’m locking you in. See ya later, Heyes.”  
Heyes picked up his book muttering under his breath. “How can a man reform when nobody trusts him? Ya' have to give them some trust so you can see if they can live up to it.”  
He slid his fingers over the spine of the book, and with a dimpled grin, pulled out a thin piece of metal and slid it into the lock of his handcuffs. He was free within minutes and walked over to the door, quickly turning the tumblers. He tested the door, opening it, and glancing down the corridor. There was nobody there.  
“Yup, they should really try trusting a fella. This’ll drive Cage mad - wondering what I’ve been up to.” Heyes closed the door and returned to the bed, pausing only to stick the chamber pot underneath before lounging back with his book. “Why be difficult, when you can be impossible with so little effort?” 

 

Cage sat down beside Sheriff Sheehan and smiled tentatively at the hauntingly pale man sitting opposite. “My sincere condolences on your loss, Mr. Stanton. I’m a widower myself, so I really know the kind of hole the loss of a loving wife can leave in your life.”  
Ed nodded. “Thanks. Do you have children?”  
“A boy. My wife died in childbirth. I can’t imagine how it must feel to lose someone in your circumstances. I want to assure you that we’ll do all that we can to make sure justice is served.”  
“Thanks, Mr. Atwater, but she died in a fire. What’s all this talk of justice?”  
“You already told the sheriff here that she was going to see him in Joplin, and gave the address she was headed for. She was followed, Mr. Stanton. She went to the same place as you said she was headed for, and a man was seen to open the door and let her in. She was shot and left to die.”  
Ed Stanton stared at the lawmen with disbelieving blue eyes. “Huh?”  
“We have told George Mitchell to expect to be charged with her murder.”   
“Shot!?” Ed Stanton dropped his head into his hands, wiping away tears. “Never! This is a mistake.”   
“I accused him.” Sheehan leaned forward. “He hasn’t denied it, sir.”  
“Has he admitted it?”   
Sheehan shook his head. “No, but the first thing I’d do is protest my innocence – wouldn’t you? I told him the bullets we recovered from the scene are a match to his gun, and he looked me in the eye and refused to say a word. He’s a real cold fish.”  
Ed started to tremble, the truth hitting him. “She was shot!?”  
Sheehan’s eyes glittered apologetically. “I’m sorry, sir. I thought the local law enforcement had told you the full circumstances of her death.”   
“I was told she died in a fire! That’s it.”  
“She did.” Sheehan darted an uneasy look at Cage. They had to tell the man everything. “She was followed and let into the building by a male. While the house was being watched, smoke was seen coming from one of the windows. Two men ran to try to get people out, but shots were heard. The place was an inferno and they were beaten back. Somebody kept your wife in there until the fire took a good hold, and only one body was found. We think Mitchell shot your wife in the legs so her screams and the fire would be a distraction for his escape.”   
The bereaved man shuddered and his eyes glittered with tears, but Cage knew they had to press the message home to get his cooperation. “Would your wife have gone into that building with a man she didn’t know?”   
Ed’s absent eyes looked off into the corner. “Maybe, if he’d told her Uncle George was expected soon. She was kinda naive.”  
“What we have, Mr. Stanton; is your wife going to meet George Mitchell. She met a man, she was detained in a building until a fire took hold and then shot in both legs to make sure she couldn’t get out; and once we caught the man she was said to have been meeting, the bullets not only match his gun, but when confronted with this information he refuses to say a word in his defence.” Cage held Ed’s gaze. “A court is going to see all that as very compelling evidence – especially as we already have evidence linking him to other murders.”  
“I find that hard to accept.” Ed sniffed back his emotions. “Uncle George has been accused of everything from embezzlement to murder – all because of accusations made by Hannibal Heyes and his friends. Heyes is a thief and a liar. Why is anybody even listening to him?”  
“Accusations backed up by respected members of staff, as well as physical evidence, Mr Stanton. Mitchell also admitted to a long standing family rivalry between the Mitchells, and Heyes’ and Curry’s fathers. To anybody objective it stinks of a vendetta, but not one led by Heyes.”  
“I really didn’t expect men like you to be on the side of thieves and criminals.”   
“Mr. Stanton, we’re on the side of justice. Your personal feelings towards Heyes or Curry are of no concern to either of us,” Sheehan pressed on. “If the court had wanted Heyes to die, they’d have sentenced him to hang. We can’t condone vigilante action.” Sheehan watched his words land. “George Mitchell isn’t a misunderstood public servant. He’s a desperate man on the run who put your wife through a terrible ordeal. She was burned alive – unable to move because she had been shot in both legs. Everyone who heard those screams will never forget them.” He paused. “I know I never will.”  
Ed rubbed his face with both hands, his voice rasping with emotion. “For the love of God, will you stop!? Why are you telling me all of this?”  
“Because we’re pretty sure he murdered your wife, but we can’t prove it absolutely! We can prove he had a Smith and Wesson gun, the same as the type your wife was shot with, but there are thousands of those. They’re not as popular as the Colt, but, but there must be up to a hundred of them in Joplin alone.” Cage leaned forward. “But how many of those will be wanted men without an alibi? And she wasn’t meeting anybody else. Focus man – are you gonna let him away with this? I know I wouldn’t.”  
Ed voiced rasped with emotion. “What do you want me to do?”   
Cage’s eyes softened. “We know your wife was in collusion with Mitchell to harm Heyes and Curry, Mr. Stanton.”  
“And you want me to tell all about that now?” Ed Stanton snorted angrily. “Haven’t you heard the saying ‘never speak ill of the dead?’”  
“Yeah,” Cage nodded. “But we’re in the business of trying to stop folks from being dead in the first place - that’s our priority. A young woman was shot in the throat because she’s connected to Jed Curry, and there has been an attempt to kill a ten year old girl and her mother. This vendetta has affected innocent people – and that’s got to stop. We can prove Mitchell paid the men who carried out those attacks.”  
Ed scowled at the lawmen. “You’ve got Mitchell, and Julia’s dead.”  
Cage’s steady blue eyes bored into the widower. “They weren’t working alone, Mr. Stanton, and Mitchell gloated about the girl still being hurt. We have to stop that. What age is your boy, Mr. Stanton?”   
“Eleven,” Ed murmured.  
“The girl is ten, Mr. Stanton. If these people get their way she’ll never reach eleven.” Cage’s voice softened. “I’m asking you, from one father to another, don’t let this continue. She’s a child. What has she done to deserve death?”  
Cage sat back to let the point filter through Ed’s labyrinth of emotions, using the silence to drive the man to think long and hard about the choice they were asking him to make.   
Ed’s eyes flickered. “She got a bit obsessed with the trials. I truly never knew she’d gotten involved in any kind of conspiracy. I thought meeting up with witnesses was a way of working through her issues with Curry.” He dropped his head, “but I’m not surprised she encouraged her uncle to give Heyes a hard time in jail to make Curry feel bad.” He raised his head again. “You’ll never convince me that she was involved in any shootings, though.”  
Cage nodded. “All we know for sure is she was protecting a man who went on the run after being implicated in murder and embezzlement, but we’re asking you to help us. Please! This has cost her life; unnecessarily in my view. Help us to make sure nobody else dies. I believe the danger lies with her co-conspirators and she was naively drawn in. She was useful to Mitchell in helping to cover his tracks when everything went wrong.”  
“Who was she meeting up with, Mr. Stanton?” Sheehan asked.   
Ed Stanton slumped hopelessly. “You can have her address book and letters from the house.”   
“Did you meet anybody else with connections to Heyes and Curry?” Cage asked.  
“Yes. Julia wanted to go to the trial to give evidence and I went with her as support. Uncle George took her to Heyes’ trial. I couldn’t close the business twice, you see. She also went to a couple of meetings with a Mr. and Mrs. Roberts, Mr. and Mrs. Baines, and a Mr. Fletcher. Uncle George assured me they were helping Julia.”   
Cage and Sheehan nodded, the message sinking in that Julia had been more involved than her husband either knew or wanted to admit. There was a limit to the cooperation. Ed Stanton needed to hang on to his version of her memory. “Her letters would be a great help, Mr. Stanton.” Cage spoke softly. They would need his help again – he was sure of it. “I’m sure we’ll find she was drawn in by her uncle. This will help preserve her memory as a gentle, loving mother; being so open will scotch any rumours. Thank you for your help, sir.” 

 

Abigail set down the bottle of ink beside the pan and paper. “Right; let’s start noting the names of the people she was seeing and linking the number of instances.”  
Sheriff Sheehan flicked open the wooden box with a moue. “I’m not too comfortable with this. What if she’s been writing about womanly things?”  
Cage tossed over the address book. “Here, you do the book – Abi, do the letters. I’ll get the transcripts of the trials so we can compare them.” He walked over to the bags and placed one on the bed. “Did you get anywhere with the preacher’s wife?”  
Abigail shook her head. “No. Julia had confided in her that she was helping her uncle because he’d been unjustly accused. It would appear Mrs. Wutherspoon approved – at least until I told her how Julia really died. I do wish people would stop canonising the criminals just because they have a relationship with them.”  
“And you’ve never done that, Mrs. Stewart?” She looked up to see Sheehan’s bright Irish eyes fixing her with intense scrutiny.  
“No.”  
“Are you sure? Your relationship with Heyes was something I picked up on right away. Those suspicions have been confirmed by this trip to Jacksonville.”  
Abigail’s lips twitched into a smile. “Nobody who has known me for any length of time can accuse me of treating Mr. Heyes with reverence, or any kind of veneration. I was one of his toughest critics. Watching him throw away his potential infuriated me, and I told him so on many occasions.”   
“Yet you formed a relationship?”  
“No, I can’t say we did – until now. We were drawn to one another, he’s intelligent and charismatic, but I hadn’t seen him for ten years. I only got involved because Beth Jordan was shot in the throat. My relationship with Mr. Heyes grew from that. I’d probably never have seen him again.”  
Sheehan nodded slowly. “But you’re not keen on her seeing this man, Cage?”  
“Abigail was very close to my wife. I don’t like seeing her with a man like Heyes – I’ve made no secret of that – but she’s a friend, and in my book you’re there for them through thick and thin.”  
Abigail laid a hand on Cage’s arm. “And I’m very grateful, but there are innocent lives at stake – let’s not lose sight of that.”  
“Yeah, back to work,” Cage replied.   
Abigail slipped the first letter out of the envelope and started to read...

 

“So, witnesses from both trials have been meeting?” Abigail sat back. “So far we have Kenneth Roberts and his wife, Mr. and Mrs. Baines, Winford Fletcher, and Julia Stanton and her husband arranging to have tea together. It appears they all attended both trials except for Ed Stanton.”   
“Charles Morgan was not welcome as he appeared to be too rough,” chuckled Cage. “Yeah, great judgement, huh? They like a nice, smartly dressed criminal.”  
“To travel to both trials shows a real vested interest.” Abigail nodded.   
“So, we start to look at all these people in depth? I think we need to see what Harry and Jed come back with to see who we need to prioritise.”  
“I’ll get the agency to check into the backgrounds of these folks.” Cage stood. “I suppose we need to go let Heyes out.”  
Sheehan frowned in curiosity. “Let him out?”  
“Yeah,” Cage grinned. “I handcuffed him to the bed and locked him in his room.”  
“You did?” Sheehan chortled.   
“Yup, we’ve got enough to do without chasing him down back alleys.”  
Sheehan shrugged. “Yeah, but I kinda feel sorry for him, now I find out what happened to him as a boy.”   
“Yeah? Well in my book stealing to eat ain’t criminal, but stealing to get rich is. He crossed the line,” Cage retorted.  
“He’s trying to get back on the right side of it, though,” Abigail added quickly.  
“Let’s get down to his room,” Cage glanced at Abigail. “We’ll probably find he’s got the line folded up and stuck in his back pocket.” 

 

“How did you get out?” Cage demanded.  
Heyes turned a dimpled face up from his book. “Out? I haven’t been out.”  
Cage grabbed up the handcuffs from nightstand. “These!”  
“Oh, those. Yeah, I took them off. It was hard to turn the pages and hold the book at the same time. I didn’t think you’d mind.”  
Cage glared at Heyes. “Mind!? The door was unlocked too.”   
“Yes. I thought it was unsafe,” the dimples pitted even deeper. “What if there’s been a fire?”  
“A fire?” snarled Cage.  
“Yes. The orange, burny stuff. Very dangerous to leave somebody chained up like that.”  
“Where’ve you been Heyes? What’ve you been up to?”  
“I’ve been here reading my book, apart from when I had a bit of lunch.” Heyes' eyes drifted over to Abigail and Sheehan standing by the door, enjoying having an audience. “Is that alright with you Cage? They say knowledge is power, and power corrupts – so it’s possible that all this reading was making me evil... so I took a break for lunch.”   
“How do you put up with him?” demanded Sheehan.  
“Usually through gritted teeth.” Heyes stood and delivered a twinkling grin at the assembled company. “I promised you I’d behave, and I have, Cage. I swear on my life. I just didn’t see why I needed to be chained up. How did you get on?”  
“We’ve got a group of people who got together at your trial, and who’ve been in touch ever since.” Abigail sat on the bed, shaking her head ruefully at Cage who was putting the handcuffs away. “Did you really behave, Mr. Heyes?”  
“It’s as true as I’m sitting here.” Heyes nodded. “I thought it was a way I could convince you that I mean to keep my word. After all, I could have just clipped the cuffs back on when I heard you coming.”  
“If I find out you’ve been up to anything...” Abigail began.  
“Don’t worry. You won’t,” grinned Heyes.  
Abigail’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What do you mean? I won’t find out - or I’ll find out you’ve not been up to anything?”   
“Honestly!” Heyes threw up his hands in exasperation. “I sat here and read. Can you blame me for not wanting to do it cuffed to a bed? Who are these people who’ve been meeting?”  
“Mr. and Mrs. Baines, Mr. and Mrs Roberts, and a man called Winford Fletcher,” Sheehan leaned against the dresser. “Do you remember them from the trial?”  
“Fletcher?” The smile dropped from Heyes’ face. “Yeah, I remember him. He’s a crooked banker who set up Clem’s pa when he embezzled fifty thousand dollars from his bank. We helped her recover the money.”  
Abigail’s eyes widened. “A crooked banker? Yes, I remember. He stated in court that he was cleared of those charges, but Mr. Heyes’ lawyer suggested he’d bought the charges off. Fifty thousand dollars, plus the costs in getting the charges dismissed? That’s a potentially huge grudge.”   
Cage folded his arms and nodded sagely. “Yup. I’ll telegraph the agency to see what we can find out about him and his background. I think we’re getting somewhere at last.” 

 

Kenny beamed warmly and proffered a handshake. “Jed, Harry! Sit down - it’s great to see you again. I’m glad you could make it in this weather.” Kenny cast a glance at the snowy landscape outside the window and rubbed his hands. “Let me get you something to warm you up. Coffee - or would you like something harder?”  
“That depends,” blue eyes glittered in question at the warden. “Do you have anything for us, or is this gonna end up bein’ a social call?”  
Kenny’s smile widened. “Oh, I’ve got things for you. Quite a lot, in fact.”  
Harry and the Kid shared a glance. “Coffee, I think - we’d better keep a clear head until we’ve finished.” The Kid raised an eyebrow at Harry’s disappointed scowl. “It’s a lot warmer in here than I remember.”  
“Yeah, I use the allowance the way it’s intended. ” Kenny’s eyes narrowed. “That’s quite a scar. What’ve you been up to?”  
The Kid put a hand to his head. “Yeah, we caught Mitchell, but he put up a fight.”  
“So I heard. How are you doing? Should you be up and about?”  
“Yeah, the doc cleared me, and Cage gave this to Harry and me for an easy ride.”  
“They need a professional detective too,” added Harry, defensively. “Someone has to read through the evidence and pick up on the important points.”  
Kenny and the Kid exchanged a glance. “Sure, Harry. We need this to be done right.”  
Kenny gestured to the man standing by the door. “Coffee for three, please.” Harry and the Kid took the proffered seats while Kenny pulled open a drawer. “How’s Heyes?” he asked.  
“Better, now he’s out of jail,” Harry murmured.  
“Yes.” Kenny’s mouth hardened slightly in irritation. “Mr. Attwater informed me that he had been arrested. Didn’t really go into details though. I swear, I was ready to take a train over to Joplin myself and personally wring his neck!”  
“Uh huh,” the Kid nodded.  
Harry pulled out a cigar. “He went rampaging through the town after Mitchell – even after Cage and Morrison told him to stop. The sheriff grabbed him and stuck him in jail.”  
Kenny’s jaw dropped. “No. The idiot! I’m surprised he got released after pulling something like that. Is his parole in jeopardy because of it?”  
The Kid relaxed back in his chair. “Nah, but I hear it was a close call. Abi used the telephone thing and got hold of the governor. She got him to understand her point of view – but it took her nearly all night.”  
“Abi?” Kenny frowned heavily. “That’s the woman who wrote to him while he was here, isn’t it? The mother of his two children?”  
“Yup, that’s her,” Jed confirmed. “The one and only.”  
Kenny smiled and shook his head. “I’m surprised the governor would even speak to a woman about Heyes’ parole, especially in the middle of the night.”  
“Abigail Stewart can be very persuasive. I don’t know what she said exactly, but she can talk as smooth as honey when she needs to.” The blue eyes glittered meaningfully. “She and Heyes have an understandin’.”  
Kenny gestured to a clear spot on the desk for the man bringing in the coffee tray. “Ah, is she the woman you two talked about when you visited?”  
The Kid shook his head. “No, that was Beth, usually. Abi’s an ex-Pinkerton, workin’ with Cage. She’s real smart – she sure doesn’t miss much.”  
“No, she doesn’t,” growled Harry. “She’s got a real good aim - and nobody warned me about that when they sent me to take her back to the double J. They all knew she wouldn’t want to come.”  
Kenny started pouring out the coffee. “She must have good contacts if she can get the governor to speak to her in the middle of the night. I couldn’t do that.”  
“Probably less to do with contacts, and more to do with knowing his weak spots,” grinned the Kid. “Her job with the Pinkertons involved diggin’ up secrets, and she’s still real good at it.”  
Kenny walked around the desk and handed out the coffee cups. “Sounds like a real interesting lady. Trust him to find someone like that.” He shrugged. “A Pinkerton’s!” He smiled ruefully. “He does like to live dangerously , doesn’t he? But I guess he’d get bored with a dumb one.”   
The Kid chuckled. “You don’t know the half of it. It was like throwing water on burning fat every time those two crossed swords– but they seem to have calmed down – a bit.”   
“She’s not natural, if you ask me,” Harry sighed. “Women have no business thinking - if they can’t get what they want by acting dumb, they can get it by being smart? That just ain’t fair.”  
“Which part is unfair competition?” snickered the Kid. “Can’t you raise your game, Harry?”  
Harry folded his arms. “I shouldn’t have to. Women belong in the kitchen.”  
“There speaks an unmarried man,” laughed Kenny.  
“Yeah,” the Kid nodded, “and he’s gonna stay one if that’s all he thinks they’re for.” He hooked Harry with a mischievous blue glint. “Promise me I can watch when you share your philosophy with Abi.” He smirked at Kenny before he continued. “On second thoughts - best not. There’s been enough bloodshed.”   
Kenny sat back at his desk and opened an enormous ledger, supporting the huge book while flicking through the book to find the pages marked with paper bookmarks. “Well, to business – the good thing about Mitchell’s previous secretary is that he was fastidious in keeping the diary up to date. We also have all visitors sign in at the gate house as they enter and leave – our records are excellent.” 

 

“Mrs. Stewart?”   
Abigail turned to face the hotel clerk.   
“You’re a friend of Mr. Atwater, aren’t you?”  
She nodded. “Yes, I’m just going to meet him at the restaurant with Sheriff Sheehan.”  
The sunlight twinkled of the man’s little, round spectacles. “Can you tell him a telegram has come in from the Pinkerton offices in Chicago?” He shifted excitedly from foot to foot at the very idea of handling such vital information. “I came in twenty minutes ago, but he wasn’t in his room.” The clerk gave an enthusiastic smile. “I did try. I went up right away.”  
Abigail and Heyes walked up to the desk. “I can take it to him if you want?”  
The man slunk back from the front desk, clutching the missive to his chest. “Oh, no, ma’am. I couldn’t do that. It’s from the Pinkerton office. I couldn’t give it to a civilian – and a female one at that. It must remain in official hands until it can be delivered to the intended recipient.”  
“A civilian? Official hands?” Abigail gave a tinkling laugh. “What are you?”  
“I’m charged with the safe keeping of this important document. The Pinkertons sent it.” The little man puffed out his chest. “I take my responsibility very seriously, you know.”  
“So I see,” grinned Heyes.  
“Well,” the little man unlocked a drawer and thrust the telegram into it. “It’s from the Pinkertons.”  
“Really?” Heyes chuckled. “You should have said. We’ll let him know for you.” 

 

Three heads poured over the diary, Harry noting down the dates and attendees to the meeting as the details were read out as Kenny’s long finger slid down the page. “You see here? One week after Heyes trial Mr. and Mrs Baines, Mr. and Mrs. Roberts, Julia Stanton, and Winford Fletcher attended a meeting here with Mitchell.” Kenny crossed over to another book. “This is the gatehouse register. On the same date these people signed in at ten minutes past one, and they signed out at fourteen minutes past five.” Kenny raised his head, looking at Harry and the Kid in turn. “Considering the time of day, I’d suggest they probably left with Mitchell.”  
The Kid frowned. “Have you ever seen witnesses to trials coming to a prison before?”   
Kenny shook his head. “Never to meet the warden in this way. Very occasionally we’ll get lone witnesses trying to see a prisoner to gloat or to tell them they are forgiven. In fact I think I’ve only see that twice, but heard of a few more cases. I’ve never seen anything like this – Heyes wasn’t contacted or informed. I’d have heard.”  
The Kid scratched his head. “It’s strange but it’s not proof.”  
Kenny arched his eyebrows. “Not yet it’s not. Look here. These same people met here once more before your trial, Jed. Three days before.” Kenny sat back and shook his head. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”  
The Kid and Harry exchanged a look before glancing down at the various pieces of paper protruding from the top of both books. “Are there more meetings?” asked Harry.  
“Yup. There was another right after your trial Jed. All the same people were there, except for Julia Stanton.” He flicked through to another marked page. “And here – in October. Another meeting with Winford Fletcher and Mr. and Mrs. Baines.”   
Jed turned the pages of the gatehouse book, his brows knotting in curiosity. “After that there are eight more meetings only with the Baines, and two more with the Baines and Julia Stanton here too.”  
“I guess we can eliminate Winford Fletcher then?” ventured Harry.  
“No,” adamant blue eyes fixed on Harry. “Julia Stanton didn’t go to all the meetings and we know she was up to her ears in it. That means nothing. He could have been dealing with them through private letters.”  
“So could the Roberts,” Kenny murmured. He slid a folder over to Harry. “I’ve itemised all the meetings which took place between various groups of witnesses within these walls over a five year period. Twelve in total – very, very suspicious – especially in light of what happened afterwards.” Kenny slipped open another folder. “With the cooperation of the local authorities I have also managed to obtain copies of the following telegrams. I have them because they were addressed to the Prison Warden, and not to Mitchell personally. To get those sent to Mitchell personally you’ll need the Pinkertons to get it officially sanctioned. I understand there are quite a number of them.”  
Harry and the Kid sucked in a breath of anticipation. “What do the ones you have say?” Harry queried.   
Kenny pulled out the first one. “Funds transferred as requested. J.B.” He looked from the Kid to Harry. This was sent two days after one of the meetings, and one week before the ‘prison break.’”  
A silence fell over the room before the Kid spoke. “J.B.?”  
Kenny nodded. “It may interest you to know that I made some enquiries of my own. Jackson Baines married the young woman from Heyes’ trial, she was a witness – he owns a railroad; one which was robbed by ‘The Devil’s Hole Gang’ time and time again.”  
“Jackson Baines?” murmured the Kid.  
Kenny’s earnest voice carried across the silent room. He slid over another document using a single forefinger. “That’s not all. This was sent to Mitchell eight days before Beth was shot.”   
Harry reached out and grabbed it up. “Money sent. No more mistakes. Get it done. J.B.”  
The Kid dropped his head into his hands. “Beth!? What did I do to her? “  
Kenny sat back. “Whatever you’ve done, Jed, you didn’t do this. That’s down to whoever pulled the trigger and paid to make that happen.”   
The Kid sat rocking backwards and forward, rubbing his temples and staring aimlessly off into the corner. “No, we started it when we robbed and didn’t think about how it affected folks. We didn’t care – we took. When you do that, it can all fall down for other folks - like a house of cards. We did it. I did it! Oh, Beth!”  
Harry darted a look of helpless confusion at Kenny, but the warden was quick to identify the realisation in the man before him; the insight which often hit prisoners soon after the stark reality of incarceration dawned in the wee small hours. Kenny quickly slipped into a mask of professional authority. “Harry, go and get the whiskey. It’s over there in the credenza.” He stood and walked over to the man slumped over in the chair and dropped a hand on his back. “Jed, I’ve seen a lot of men with regrets; but one who cares about other folks has got a good future. Criminals usually only care about themselves.”   
Kenny smiled forcing the Kid to look at him by repeating his name strongly and assertively. As soon as he caught sight of the deep-blue pools of regret he smiled, holding the ex-outlaw’s gaze. “Jed!” Kenny held out a glass of whiskey with a firm smile. “Drink this.” The Kid started to drop his gaze, but he was pulled up short by a determined order. “Drink this!”   
The Kid sat up reluctantly and stretched out a shaking hand. “Thanks.”  
Kenny crouched before the gunman. “Jed. I’ve seen this a thousand times, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that we make our own hell. You’ve done things – sure you have, we all have, and it hurt folks – there’s no doubt about that. Does that give them the right to shoot Beth in the throat? No! It doesn’t! They did this. They could steal from you to get back what they lost, they could stop you getting jobs by spreading rumours, they could even bad-mouth you - but nothing else measures up as evening the score.” He laid a firm hand on the Kid’s knee. “Don’t lose sight of that, Jed. These folks have gone way beyond anything I can understand. It’s not normal.” Kenny saw the blue eyes sink once again. “Jed! Drink this.”   
The Kid raised a trembling hand, still grasping the glass. “I could have gotten them killed, Kenny. The two people who mean more to me than my own life – and look what I did to them.”  
“You stole. You didn’t put a bullet in Beth’s throat.” Kenny darted a look of irritation at Harry who floated around the periphery of the room, clearly out of his depth with another man displaying naked emotion. “And you didn’t torture Heyes either. Mitchell did that.”  
“Yeah, because we stole!”   
“I thought Heyes was tortured because Mitchell hated Heyes’ pa.” Harry ventured, reluctantly.  
Kenny’s forehead creased in surprise. He hadn’t expected Harry to contribute anything useful. “Heyes’ pa?”  
Harry nodded. “Yeah, Mitchell told Cage he had it in for Heyes because of his family‘s politics. Mitchell’s folks hated both their families so much they were the ones who hit their places, and killed their kin.”  
Kenny gave a gasp. “They were? You see, Jed, there’s more to it than you. That’s where it all started - if your families had brought you up you’d never have become criminals.”  
“Ya think?” The blue eyes simmered doubtfully.   
“I know so. Life’s a tapestry.” Kenny pulled up a chair and heaved a great sigh. “I’ve seen a lot of men pass through here – thieves, murderers, confidence tricksters; you name it. You develop an ability to see the recidivists – the ones you know will be back; and you can spot the unusual. You and Heyes both stand out as being different to the criminal herd – I wouldn’t be a friend if either of you were.”  
The Kid raised his glass and drank deeply of the amber liquid. “I still have a lot to regret.”  
“No argument there, Jed.” Kenny’s mouth twitched into a rueful smile. “But at least you do regret it – most folks in here only regret getting caught.” Kenny stood giving a manly pat on the back, “and that’s what makes the difference. Come on- drink up. You’re coming home with me; you’re having a home cooked meal. It’s Friday – so no work tomorrow. I’m gonna get you just drunk enough to start feeling, but not too drunk to think straight – between that, and some good company, this time tomorrow life’ll seem a whole lot brighter.” 

 

Cage clattered through the door of the restaurant, turning gleaming blue eyes on the company assembled around the table. He placed a telegram on the table with a grin of satisfaction. “Winford Fletcher is no longer a banker. He’s a plumbing supplies merchant. It seems confidence in his honesty led to a decline in his bank, and it was bought over at much reduced price.”  
Abigail’s gaze became more intense. “So he lost his bank? On top of all that money he lost, it stacks up as a rather big motive, doesn’t it?”  
Heyes nodded. “It sure does. He was always devious too. That’s how he managed to fit up Clem’s pa with his crime.”  
Cage read from the piece of paper in his hand. “According to the agency he still lives a fairly comfortable life. The household has a live in cook and maid of all works, but it’s a big step down from the house he had on the hill with a full staff.”  
“I feel like we’re getting close to this.” Sheriff Sheehan chewed thoughtfully on his steak. Can I rely on you to make sure all the evidence of a criminal conspiracy is forwarded to me in Joplin? I need to get back there now we’ve spoken to Ed Stanton.”  
Cage nodded. “I sure will. It’s the least I can do to thank you for your cooperation. We just need to hear from the agency on the checks into Mitchell’s bank accounts to see if anyone’s been transferring money into them. The meetings don’t stack up to much by themselves; but with Ed Stanton’s evidence, and one of the conspirators actually handing over hard earned cash to a man we can prove paid men the shooters, we’ve got them banged to rights.”  
“What if they paid some other way?” asked a concerned-looking Heyes.  
“Conventional people tend to commit crime within their own habits, Mr. Heyes, and people like this use banks or safes, rather than stashing cash in a hole somewhere – even if it’s a safety deposit box.” Abigail patted his hand reassuringly. “If they drew out cash which doesn’t fit their normal spending pattern and that was right before a meeting – an inference can be drawn; especially if they can’t account for where they spent it. If they’ve hidden it in a safe – there’s the question of how they sent it. If they sent it by wire, it can be traced that way, just as it could be by bank draft. People like Winford Fletcher are basically dishonest; so they’re unlikely to trust a third party or the postal system to deliver the cash on their behalf. They tend to think everyone thinks like they do- it’ll get stolen. That helps us find it.”  
Sheehan sat back in his chair. “I never thought of all that either. I could sure learn a few things on solving crimes from you Pinkerton folks. A sheriff’s generally voted in on his ability to shoot straight, and stare a man down, around these parts.”  
“That’s why there’s a saying in detective circles – ‘follow the money.’” Cage grinned. “There’s usually money involved, except in crimes of passion, and folks have to get their hands on it somehow. That’s how we catch them.”  
Abigail tapped impatiently on the table. “I can’t wait for Jed and Harry to get here and show us what Warden Reece has uncovered from the prison records, and the telegrams Mitchell sent and received when he was in charge of the prison.”   
“Yup,” Cage smiled, looking around each person at the table in turn, “and when we get the banking records from the Pinkerton Agency, the comparison will tell us exactly who’s behind all of this.”  
“It’ll be over,” Heyes reached out and took Abigail’s hand. “I can get on with the rest of my life at last. I’ve learned a lot through this whole episode. My friends have taught me what’s possible – and my foes have shown me what matters most. I’m not gonna let any of you down again folks. My old life is dead – I’m done with it.” 

 

Kenny smiled up at his wife as she cleared the dishes. “That was a wonderful dinner, Sarah.”  
She returned the compliment with the kind of wifely affection borne of having to suddenly feed two unplanned guests, as well as review the sleeping arrangements of the entire household. Why did they have to sleep here when there was a perfectly good hotel not too far away? “I’m glad I could stretch it on so little warning.” She beamed at the guests. “Have you had enough to eat?”  
“Yes, ma’am. That was a wonderful meal. Chicken and ham go so well together.”  
“I'm just glad we had it to share,” Sarah commented. “It did make for a nice combination, didn't it? I'll have to remember that for future meals. It was very nice.”  
The men watched her leave the room and Jed smiled.  
“You married a saint Kenny,” he told him. “A lot of women would have been angry at two unannounced guests showing up for dinner.”  
Kenny chuckled. “I know. Sometimes I do take terrible advantage of her. But whenever I try to apologize she shoos me away. Says that she enjoys having people come by and will always be open to guests. So, don’t worry about it. She’ll sleep with Evelyn and I’ll bunk with the boys. That’ll leave our room for you two. You don’t mind a double bed, do you?”  
“You don’t snore, do ya, Harry.”  
“No I don’t,” Harry retorted. “And you better not either, Kid.”  
“I’ve never had any complaints.”   
Harry gave a snort. “You’re Kid Curry – who’d have the nerve?”   
“Not everyone I’ve slept with knew I was Kid Curry,” the Kid grinned.  
Harry lit up a cigar. “True - and I bet Heyes would have let ya know, huh?”   
“He’d probably have mentioned it,” the Kid muttered, “knowin’ Heyes.”  
“I thought it’d be best to be comfortable and unwind.” Kenny sat back and patted his stomach contentedly. “The best way to get over an upset is over a home-cooked meal, good company, and the freedom to be as relaxed as you want to be.”  
“I’m sorry, Kenny.” Contrite blue eyes caught the gleam of the candlelight. “It’s really comin’ home to me how my past affects my life. I get so worried about startin’ a family and how I can protect them.”  
“That’s being a father, Jed. It’s a good sign that you’re thinking that way already.” Kenny swirled his brandy in his glass, the light catching the fluid with a golden glow. “We will get this behind you; we just need to get you to accept you can’t change the past.”  
The Kid groaned lightly. “And how do I go about doin’ that, Kenny?”  
“I come from down to earth, sensible folks, Jed. My ma would have told you there’s no point crying over spilt milk.” Kenny swung back on his chair. “She’d have told you to grab yourself a mop and get cleaning.”  
“Your ma would have got on like a house on fire with Grandpa Curry,” snickered the Kid. “He was a great one for the homilies too.”  
Kenny swigged back the last of his drink and reached for the bottle to refill. “They’ve got a point though. No point in moaning about it, you’ve got to do something about it if you want a better future.”  
“Like what?” demanded the Kid.  
“Exactly what you’re doing, Jed. You’re working, mixing with decent folks, supporting your friend through a tough time – and marrying a lovely girl. That’s real life. You’re turning into a decent, hard-working man. You might have got there a bit late and taken a detour through some thoroughly dirty territory, but you’ve ended up at the right place.”  
The Kid shook his head. “Yeah, very dirty territory. That’s what I regret the most.”  
“Why? Look how you can use that? You can’t change it, but you can make sure your children understand what you had to face – there’ll be no attraction to a life of crime when you tell them of your rough times.” Kenny proffered a top up to his guests. “Kids often think they know a lot more than their parents. All they see is us working and doing things around the house –they can assume we know nothing of the world beyond. There’s no way your children will ever think that. You’ll have real credibility.”  
The Kid shrugged in disbelief. “Ya think?”  
“Yeah, I do.” Kenny’s smile widened to a grin. “And when that fails, you’ll have that arctic stare to fall back on – as long as they aren’t girls. You’ll never pull that off on a little girl.”  
The Kid’s eyes twinkled. “Especially if she’s got Beth’s eyes.”  
“My Eve can wind me around her little finger,” Kenny sighed. “The men at the prison would never imagine how much of a soft touch I can be.”  
The Kid stood and walked over to the fireplace, warming the backs of his legs as he faced the room again. “Why’d you insist on invitin’ me here, Kenny?”  
“The shock of all this hit you and you needed support, that’s all.” Kenny looked up at the ex-outlaw. “You needed some space to realise you can’t go back and make a fresh start. What matters is that you make a new ending. Besides, with this snow you’re likely to be stuck for a bit, and I think a proper home will be better than a hotel.”  
Jed Curry breathed deeply, the smoke from the wood fire mingling comfortably with the rich, oaky tones of the brandy. He looked around the comfortable room, mentally measuring the friends who cared enough to put their lives on hold to wrap themselves around him like a blanket. “Yeah, a new ending, Grandpa Curry would have got on with your ma, Kenny. He had a sayin’ I liked.” He raised his glass in toast. “May the bridges you burn light your way.”  
Harry and Kenny chuckled gently. “I like that. I’m gonna use that one,” murmured Kenny.  
The Kid drained his glass looking around playfully. “Well, we’ve done the thinkin’ and the feelin’ you promised – how about a game of poker?”

 

“Is that it, Cage? Is it what we’ve been waiting for?”  
Cage nodded, looking down at the crumpled telegram in his hand. “It sure is. We finally know who was paying Mitchell to carry on the vendetta.” He tilted his head in Abigail’s direction. “Your guess was wrong. So was mine, but the evidence doesn’t lie. The money was transferred straight into his account. They clearly never thought they’d get caught.”   
Heyes’ fingers curled around Abigail’s hand, his stomach fluttering with nerves. Abigail’s brows arched in surprise. “Really? Who is it? Tell me,” she demanded. 

To Be Continued.


	11. Truth Hurts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abi confronts their most likely antagonist
> 
> Heyes and Abi make a difficult decision.

TRUTH HURTS

One Month Later – Murreyville, Wyoming

Steven Granger shuffled his papers until they were straight and placed them back inside the manila folder. “So, we’re going to accept the prosecution’s proposal that Joan Baines commit to ending the vendetta by swearing an affidavit to cease and desist?” Steven scanned the faces around the table; Jesse pensive – there to represent his unmarried daughter’s legal interests , Abigail frowning beside an attentive Heyes, a steely-eyed Kid Curry leaning back with his arms folded; Cage, Harry, Sheriff Jacobs and Sheriff Sheehan noting their own copies of the legal documents. “As I’ve explained, even though the payments to Mitchell were made through her personal account, a court is unlikely to find her guilty of anything. They’ll see her as a put-upon, little woman, whose mother died of a heart attack after being involved in a robbery. We know he had his own grudge against the Devil’s Hole Gang because they robbed his line so many times, and the jury is likely to feel sorry for Joan.”  
“They might feel differently if you allowed the evidence I uncovered on her background to be used. She has a history of manipulative behaviour, and probably pushed him into bankrolling the whole thing.” Abigail’s dark eyes burned across the table. “She’s a very forceful woman. If anybody knows their own mind, it’s her – although she’s quite the accomplished actress. She pulls off meek very well when it suits her purposes.”  
Steven nodded. “I know, Abi, but juries are male, and they see men as the power in a relationship – especially when the woman is young and pretty, and the husband is a Railroad Man.”  
“Was,” Cage drawled from the end of the desk. “He’s been voted off the board since he’s been connected to a conspiracy to murder women and children and been charged with attempted murder.”  
“He still owns his shares, though,” Heyes muttered.  
“And it’s easier for a woman to pull a man’s strings than many would like to admit.” Abigail added, “Especially when he’s a much older man who’s desperate to recapture his virility.”   
“Still, our society has a view of the fairer sex which finds it hard to believe she was anything other than an innocent dupe - pushed into making the financial transactions to protect her husband. If I were defending her, that’s what I’d go for,” Steven smiled ruefully. “Even if she were found guilty, she’d be unlikely to be sent to jail. Getting her to swear to desist from any future vendettas not only makes you appear to be taking the higher ground, it’d be more than she’d be asked to do if she gets found ‘not guilty’ out of sympathy.” Steven arched his eyebrows. “Furthermore, you almost guarantee a conviction for the men, because she’s swearing this affidavit before their trial. I can’t believe their defence team missed that one - I suggest we strike while the iron is hot, and press ahead.”  
“I suppose it’s the best we can hope for,” sighed Abigail.   
“It’s also the right thing to do.” Heyes’ chin set in determination. “Somebody has to draw a line in the sand and stop this cycle of revenge. It all started when the Mitchells came after our folks when we were kids, and continues to this day. I don’t even want to think about how many lives this has cost. It ends now.”  
“I agree,” the Kid’s eyes burned into Steven. “It won’t serve any purpose to put her inside, and I doubt Fletcher or Baines will get too much time because the court will sympathise with them as victims of crime. I just want to put this behind us.”  
“That’s what we all want,” Jesse echoed. “All this vengeance has started to feed on itself. It stops now.”  
“So we’re agreed? Abigail? You are the only one who has expressed reservations, and as you were shot in the chest I don’t believe this can proceed without your consent. Jesse is speaking for Beth, and has agreed on her behalf.”  
Abigail nodded reluctantly. “I know you’re right, Steven. I just get so fed up with the way women get treated. Men can’t accept half of what we’re capable of doing - for good or ill. She was a driver in this conspiracy – every instinct tells me so – but she’ll get off with it because of male pig-headedness. You have my agreement, provided she accepts responsibility and swears it’s over - but she has to admit everything. I’d rather press charges if she keeps denying it all, at least the newspapers will print her true nature and she’ll have to face some consequences that way.”  
A smile twitched at Steve’s lips. “Good, I’ll let the prosecution know. She’s coming here this morning with her lawyer to find out how her case will be disposed of. I think she’ll be hoping for the charges to be dismissed like the Roberts, but Mitchell’s the only one who has more concrete evidence against them than her. So – to clarify - our agreement is that we allow the charges to be dropped against the Roberts for lack of evidence, charges to be pressed against Winford Fletcher and Jackson Baines, and Joan Baines is to swear an affidavit as long as she does not deny her part in this?”  
Steven took in the assembled group, nodding in assent. “Then let’s try and get it done today, shall we? Do it while their heads are still spinning and damage the defence of the men. The Baines are using their family lawyer, and he may be good at contract law, but he’s out of his depth in criminal law. We have a good chance of getting what we want.”  
“Sounds good to me.” The Kid stood. “I need some air.”  
“Me too.” Abigail rose and followed him stiffly from the room.  
“Well, I guess I’d better get me some of that air too,” Heyes smiled wistfully looking after his departing cousin and lover. “I didn’t realise we’d started to run out.” 

 

The carriage drew up in front of the courthouse bearing two middle-aged men and two much younger women. The horses’ breaths formed puffs of mist in the cold, bright air as the men climbed down, but Abigail’s gaze was drawn to the women, or more particularly –one of the women. Her head was held up in brittle defiance, clearly outraged at being summoned here. Abigail drank in the blonde hair, the china-blue eyes, and the immaculately polished nails. Yes; this was Joan Baines. Not only was she dressed to the nines like a wealthy, railroad owner’s wife – she oozed barely suppressed anger in every nuance and gesture. Abigail stared ahead, observing the party through her peripheral vision.   
“Now, Joannie,” the man in the extravagant cravat urged as he helped the woman down, “just remember what Ted said; stay as calm and meek as possible, just as you were at Heyes’ trial. He’s sure we can get the charges against you dropped.”  
Joan stepped onto the sidewalk, snapping her arm crisply down from her husband’s assistance. “But what about you, Jackson? These men robbed you blind for years, they killed my mother – and WE are called to account? All we wanted was some justice. Curry got off scot free, and Heyes served a fraction of his sentence.”  
Abigail looked casually away, knowing nobody would associate a woman standing alone outside the courthouse with Heyes or Curry. She wanted to hear more, and bit back the urge to explain that murdering innocent people had nothing to do with balancing a score with the ex-outlaws  
“We need to concentrate on you first, Joannie. You know that. Once you’re sorted, Ted will work on building the best possible defence for me – and nobody died as a result of our little meetings. They all survived, and I’ll get sympathy because Heyes and Curry are outlaws – they can’t hold me responsible for the actions of that stupid Warden! He was using our money to settle his own grudges. I’ll be fine.”  
“If only we could be sure of that, Jackson. You know I’ll be lost without you.”  
Jackson proffered an arm to his wife. “Oh, Joannie. I was so lucky to find a woman like you. You could have had your pick of any man in Murreyville, but you chose me. I have been honoured to support you in your time of need.”  
Abigail followed the party into the courthouse. Yes – Joan had chosen Jackson Baines – and had been most single minded in her pursuit of her quarry, according to Abigail’s investigations. She couldn’t help but wonder if the wealthy man knew he’d been chosen even before Joan Baines had moved her mother, lock, stock, and barrel to Murreyville on the news that his previous wife had been diagnosed with a fatal illness.  
“Mr. and Mrs. Baines?” a court official looked at the couple before glancing back at his clipboard.  
“And Mr. Philpot,” announced the square man following behind with a woman Abigail supposed was Joan’s sister.  
The court usher nodded. “Yes, you are down as her legal representative. Come with me.”  
Jackson stopped. “Wait, there’s no need for the ladies to be involved in this any more than is required. This whole business has been distressing enough for my wife. Do you have somewhere they can wait?” He eyed the corridors suspiciously, “out of the reach of the criminals and rogues who may be around, of course.”  
The man nodded and led the ladies to a nearby door. “Sure. They can use waiting room three. The trials are finished for the day, so the ladies will remain undisturbed.”  
Jackson nodded. “Take a seat, Joannie, you can rest assured that Ted and I will do our utmost for you. Leave it with us to negotiate the dismissal of your charges.”  
Joan nodded, and stopped at the door. “Of course, Jackson, I can always rely on you.”  
Abigail watched Joan’s face tighten with anger at the sight of Heyes and Curry entering the building, and stepped back into a doorway to avoid being seen by the partners. From her vantage point she was able to see the woman’s pale-blue eyes narrow to slits of hatred before Joan turned and closed the door of the waiting room behind her.  
Abigail waited until the corridor was clear before she slipped from her hiding place and walked over to the waiting room four. Nobody there? Good. She snapped open her bag and pulled out a tube; expanding it like a narrow telescope as the door to room four clicked shut.

 

“Where’s Abigail,” asked Heyes. The men stood watching Joan Baines and her entourage enter the room. “She should be here.”  
The Kid nodded. “Yeah, she should, but we can’t delay this, can we? Steven was real set on gettin’ Joan Baines’ signature on that document before they have a chance to think about it. I guess we’d best push on. I’m sure she ain’t gone far.”  
“Yeah, I guess.” Heyes frowned. “But Abi’s done so much, she should see this.”  
Steven sat along with the rest of the company. A hirsute, bear of a man on Steven’s right cleared his throat. “My name is Judge William Matthews.” He looked at the Baines through a set of remarkable eyebrows which bristled over intense grey eyes like holes in a horsehair mattress. “Mrs. Joan Baines?”  
Joan raised her chin. “Yes, your honour.”   
The judge nodded. “I take it you admit the allegations and agree to swear to cease and desist from any attempts to harm, or to cause or permit any harm to come to Hannibal Ellstrom Heyes, Jedediah Curry, or anyone connected to them through sanguinity, social, or business association; now or at any time in the future, whether directly or through any third party?”   
“I do not admit the charges, but I suppose I must sign to get these dreadful charges dismissed.” Joan declared, imperiously.  
Heyes and Curry exchanged a look. Abigail had understood Joan Baines character and called it right. Where was she?  
“Mrs. Baines, I must stress the affidavit is only an option if you admit to the charges.” Steven looked over at Reginald Philpot. “I understood your legal representative had explained that to you. We have telegrams from you sending funds and extorting Mitchell to make sure to, ‘get it done’ eight days before a young woman was shot in the throat. We have another confirming ‘funds sent’ two days after a meeting; and a third, very demanding telegram saying, ‘no more mistakes, get child. I am paying for this. Get Topeka finished.” The third one was sent five days before a woman was shot in the chest in Topeka. Both the shooters had a paper trail leading to Mitchell, and you were clearly the one financing the operation due to transactions completed contemporaneously with the telegrams. Mr. Heyes and Mr. Curry are keen to show mercy, and stop the cycle of vengeance, but one of the victims is a woman of standing – she is most determined to press charges if you do not freely admit your part in this. She has even mentioned bringing witnesses from your hometown to speak to your character and past.”  
Joan Baines’ pale-blue eyes turned to ice. “This is blackmail.”  
“No, ma’am, it’s a deal. They happen all the time in legal circles, but you can’t swear to desist from what you won’t concede. We’ll leave the criminal activities to you and your co-conspirators.” Steven stood, sorting his papers before placing his briefcase on the desk. “Well, Judge Matthews, it’s been good meeting you. The offer to allow Mrs. Baines to swear an affidavit is withdrawn. We would like to proceed with formal charges against her.”  
“Wait!” Philpot leaped to his feet. “May I have a moment to consult with my client?”  
“You’ve had a month, Mr. Philpot,” Steven thrust the briefs into his bag. “I’m sure I don’t have to remind you that the kindness shown to the female by juries is more than balanced out by the censure shown by society at large. A court case will ruin Mrs. Baines, one way or another.”   
“Her mother died of a heart attack because of these criminals,” cried Jackson Baines. “This is unjust.”  
“Her mother died of a heart attack after Mrs. Baines pushed her to undertake a journey, contrary to medical advice.” Steven shook his head. “My clients certainly had a part in that poor woman’s demise, and they truly regret it – but it could not have been foreseen and we intend to lead evidence showing that your wife had to leave her home town quickly after cheating on her fiancé with a wealthy man, whom she unsuccessfully tried to push into marriage. She then moved quickly when her sister advised her that the late Mrs. Baines was terminally ill, intent on worming her way into your affections.” Steven paused and gave the ever reddening Joan Baines a hard stare. “Many would say she succeeded in ensuring she was well placed for a quick marriage once you were free – in fact, most of the servants who served under your late wife were unceremoniously dismissed, and have been saying little else ever since.”  
“Servants,” sniffed Joan. “Who listens to them? They are nothing.”  
“Nothing?” Steven frowned. “Well, you would know – you learned your airs and graces from the people you served as a housemaid – and who listens to them? In the ordinary turn of events, very few, but on the stand – everyone does, including the press – especially when they have tales of a sexual affair beginning while the late Mrs. Baines was still very much alive and dependent upon her husband. In sickness and in health means a lot to people, and you’re likely to get very little sympathy. I also intend to show that you were every bit as responsible for your mother’s death as Heyes and Curry. This vendetta is your way of dealing with your own guilt - if you point and shout in another direction people may forget how hard you pushed your unwilling, ailing mother to move house for your own financial gain.”   
“Mr. Granger, please save your theatrics for the trial,” murmured Judge Baines.   
Steven nodded. “Happy to, judge. The Baines haven’t heard the half of it yet. The accused will seek to defend their actions by showing how virtuous and wronged they are. I will not only lay out their frailties, I will also show the effect many of their co-conspirators had in the creation of those very outlaws in the first place.”   
The judge arched one of his caterpillar brows. “As long as it is salient to the case, Mr. Granger, my court is not a circus.”   
“Of course.” Steven dropped his hat in his head. “Good day to you, Judge Matthews, Mr. Philpot, Mr. and Mrs. Baines. See you in court.”  
Joan Baines clutched the arms of the chair, her knuckles whitening to pearl. “Wait, Mr. Granger!” She cast a calculating glare at the lawyer. “Let’s not be so hasty. I’m sure we can come to some arrangement.” 

 

Abigail saw her coming; picking her way through the shrubs and trees on the winding path down to the water garden. In familiarizing herself with this woman and her habits, Abigail knew how much Joan Baines liked to walk around the Baines’ private grounds to alleviate stress, and had an especial fondness for the large pond and summerhouse in the south aspect of its walled garden. Abigail had expected her to come here, and yet another prediction had come to pass.  
“Mrs. Baines?” Abigail stepped out of concealment.  
“What are you doing here? This is private property.” The woman’s eyes hardened. “I saw you at the judge’s office. In the corridor”  
Abigail nodded. “Yes, you did. You made an oath today stating that you would not continue with any kind of campaign against Heyes, Curry, or anyone involved with them.”  
“So!? What’s it to you? Get out of this garden. You are trespassing.” The woman made to step passed Abigail, but found her way quickly blocked.  
“You will talk to me, one way or another.”  
“Threats! I’ll have the law on you.”   
“No, Mrs. Baines, you won’t,” Abigail responded, calmly.  
She looked down her nose at Abigail. “Are you a friend of Heyes and Curry? Are you another of the criminal classes?”  
“Like you and your friends?” Abigail sighed. “No, Mrs. Baines, I saw your smile when you left that court. You may have made a solemn oath, but I for one did not believe a word of it, but then I have a great deal of experience with dishonest people.”  
Joan Baines snorted. “Dishonest! I’ll say you do if you’ve been hanging out with the likes of Heyes and Curry.”  
“Don’t try to distract me, Mrs. Baines. You lied on oath. You have no intention of abandoning your campaign, have you?”  
The woman’s eyes narrowed. “On the contrary, that campaign is over.”  
“An interesting choice of phrase, ‘that campaign.’ It would imply another campaign has begun,” Abigail replied, suspiciously.   
“You might see it that way - I couldn’t give a rat’s behind.” She strode towards the house and pushed Abigail roughly aside.  
“Not so fast,” Abigail grabbed her hand. “You are going to talk to me here, or I’ll take you somewhere you will.” Joan swung around, her face distorted in anger before it was crowded out by surprise at the Derringer pointing between her eyes. “Don’t take me for a fool, Mrs. Baines. I will shoot you if I have to – without hesitation.”  
Joan raised her chin in defiance, but Abigail was quick to note the fear swirling in her eyes.   
“We both are capable of killing, Mrs. Baines, but there is one basic difference between us - you take the coward’s way and manipulate others into performing your dirty work – I do it myself.”  
“People will hear…”  
Abigail shrugged, holding her gaze. “I’ll take the risk. I’ve gotten out of worse without breaking a sweat. Now, what do you mean, ‘that campaign?’”  
“Precisely what I say.” A superior smirk sprouted from her thin lips. “That campaign is over.”  
Abigail’s blood ran cold at the gunmetal glint in the blue eyes. “So, the start of a new one?”  
“Am I supposed to say ‘yes’ and get shot between the eyes?”  
Abigail lowered her arm, but still kept her weapon leveled on the woman. “It’s a gamble, isn’t it?”  
“Those men killed my mother! That poor woman’s father was murdered in cold-blood, right before her eyes. They are scum, dirt, animals – they are the sort of things that scuttle out from under a stone. You’re no better than them, if you’re protecting them.”  
“Don’t give me all that ‘eye for an eye’ rubbish – you arranged for a helpless man to be tortured in prison. You also organized for a mother and child to be murdered in their home, and celebrated when an innocent, young woman almost drowned in her own blood. You paid somebody to shoot her in the throat.” Abigail glared at her. “Cal Wissen was Julia’s Stanton’s father, but he raped and murdered Jed Curry’s mother before his very eyes, he was instrumental in at least two whole families being wiped out. It was pure blind luck that Curry and Heyes survived. You cannot compare the actions of Jed Curry to Mrs. Stanton’s father; one was driven by insane rage to kill the man who raped and murdered for no good reason – the other?” Abigail shrugged. “Who knows? For fun? Revenge? Mrs. Curry was reputed to be a beauty, and so were her adolescent daughters – they suffered the same fate, Mrs. Bain. The Mitchells wanted to wipe out activists in the Underground Railroad, but they killed children too. What could they possibly have done to them? To anyone?”  
“You would come here with a sob story. You won’t change my views,” barked the woman, spittle forming at the corner of her mouth. “Curry is a murderer!”   
“Yes, but with great provocation. If he had been the same as Mrs. Stanton’s father, she would have suffered a dreadful fate at his hands – but he would never do that to anyone.”  
Mrs. Baines cackled dismissively. “Oh, yes! That makes him some kind of hero? Because he didn’t rape and murder a thirteen year old girl.”  
Abigail’s eyes hardened. “It makes him a great deal better than the man Julia Stanton worshiped, and they did not kill your mother. She died of natural causes.”  
“Brought on by their dreadful theft, they as good as held a gun to her head and pulled the trigger.”  
“It may interest you to know I accessed your mother’s medical records. She was warned by her doctor not to undertake the journey due to the seriousness of her heart condition. She had been suffering from angina, and had been treated with digitalis and Trinitrin, but you insisted on the journey. Heyes and Curry certainly did not help matters, but it is entirely possible that you caused your mother’s death, and you know it.”  
“My mother had been ill for years, but she was such a big character it was the thing you noticed least about her. We were always warned things would be a danger, but nothing ever happened. She seemed indestructible and I never dreamed she’d actually die.” The blue eyes flashed. “And we had to move! My sister needed us.”   
Abigail shook her head. “No, she had no children and could have come to you, but it was public knowledge that you had set your cap for Jackson Baines, the wealthiest man in the county. You had no time to lose because rivals were circling. You had to be in Murreyville to stand a chance. In fact, your sob stories helped you snare your husband didn’t they?”  
“Nonsense!”  
“You also had another reason to move urgently, didn’t you? Your fiancé ended your engagement, because you’d been caught with another man, a richer one. Your fiancé was more discreet than you deserved, but word was spreading – and you desperately needed a new start.” Abigail scowled at the woman. “Selfish, and cruel; yet you set yourself up as judge and jury on somebody else?”  
“On thieves and killers,” glowered Mrs. Baines. “A few social faux pas don’t compare…”  
“A few social faux pas!? A disregard for your mother’s life!? You knew she was ill and the doctor told you not to move her.” Abigail stepped towards her opponent, who took an involuntary step backwards. “And revenge is part of your make up isn’t it? You hit out at your blameless fiancé for getting engaged again so quickly by spreading rumors about his new girlfriend, whom, by all accounts, is a perfectly lovely girl.”  
Joan Baines gave a cynical laugh. “You can’t prove any of that.”  
“I don’t have to, a jury can make up their own mind,” Abigail replied calmly. “But I have made it very clear to the biggest gossips in town that I know you intimately. I deliberately behaved lewdly to make it credible, of course – they now know the gossip pertains to his earlier fiancé – you. I may have added a few tasty tit bits for good measure.” She gave Joan Baines her lopsided smile, “and you’re very welcome, but I wanted you to know your revenge didn’t work.”  
Joan Baines’ eyes widened. “Well! It’s a good job I don’t have to depend on my reputation in that backwater, but it would appear your work has been in vain. I swore the oath. There will be no charges.”  
“No, but I have character witnesses for your next trial,” Abigail’s voice hardened, “should you reach one.”  
“I’ve told you! I won’t be going to trial.”  
Abigail arched her brows. “I’m going to make sure no deals are done when you carry on with your campaign. You will face the consequences.”   
The woman’s eyebrows arched. “I very much doubt it,” harsh, eyes simmered conspiratorially. “accidents happen to anyone, especially to the likes of you!” She glanced down at the gun. “If you were going to shoot me you’d have done it by now. I suggest you tell Heyes and Curry that nobody will ever try to murder them or theirs, ever again; furthermore how would you catch me if an accident simply befell them or theirs? I will not be further embarrassed by the matter, besides; it’s enough fun for me that the prey is running scared.”  
Abigail’s heart skipped a beat. She knew that sort of murderous, pride; she had seen it before, but this time it affected her own daughter. “Accidents? Embarrassed?” She shook her head. “From what I’ve found out about you, you are a relentless social climber who does not accept anyone getting in her way – and this warning has been a setback to your revenge, hasn’t it? You’ve already had invitations withdrawn - you and your husband are quickly becoming social pariahs – and that in turn will affect your income, a matter very close to your heart. I can’t see all that doing much to sweeten an already sour temperament.”  
“Nonsense, I simply cannot attend the mayor’s ball.”  
“Tell me more about these ‘accidents?’” Abigail murmured.  
The thin nose rose haughtily. “Accidents? How could I possibly predict an accident they have not yet had,” the harsh, eyes glittered with meaning, “and who knows when they will? Why don’t you ask them how they can rest comfortably in their beds?” She gave a laugh like a frosty snap. “How can any of us? How can you? More to the point - how would you or anybody else catch me?”  
Abigail sucked in a breath, grasping the unspoken subtext. She stepped forward raising her weapon again. “Accidents? I know that’s your plan. That’s why I came here.”  
Mrs. Baines stepped back, her eyes widening. “Plan? Why would I have a plan?”  
Abigail’s temper rose. “I have very little time for people like you Mrs. Baines, manipulative, shallow and selfish. I will not tolerate anything less than complete compliance with the oath you took today. You are only still alive because your mother died after a robbery; I’m giving you a chance because of her and my sympathy for a legitimate grievance. You need to get over it and find a way to live with it without hurting others.”  
Mrs. Baines arched a superior eyebrow. “And who do you think you are to preach tolerance to me?”  
“I am the last thing you will ever see, if you continue with this campaign.” Abigail placed the weapon between the woman’s eyes. “I want you to listen to me very carefully. If I find you’re even thinking of planning for anything to happen to anybody, I will kill you. I won’t care if it’s a trip, a fall, a misfired bullet, or a falling object – no matter what it is, or to whom it is to happen, I will come and find you, and I’ll kill you – no questions asked; no excuses, why’s or wherefores. I will watch the light go out in those hard, cold-fish eyes of yours.”  
Abigail watched the woman flinch before recouping her poise and laughing derisively. Joan pursed her lips. “As I have already said, if you were going to use that gun, you would have done so already. You are simply another example of the type of bullies who defend these brigands. Do you expect me to crumble in face of your lame threats? I have a great deal more character than that. I am also a lot brighter than you think. Do you really think you’d be clever enough to catch me? Take your threats elsewhere. You don’t frighten me.”  
Abigail cocked the mechanism. “This is not a threat - it’s not even a warning. It is a promise. I killed the man who murdered my daughter. I watched his brains explode while her blood was still warm on my face. He is one of three people I have killed – and I am perfectly capable of making you the fourth.” She watched Mrs. Baines gulp heavily before pushing home her message. “You get one warning - one chance, and this is it. I will make it my business to keep you under scrutiny, and if I get the slightest inkling of you reneging on that oath, I will find you and I will kill you. Do you understand me?”  
Mrs. Baines blinked in disbelief. “What? But how…?”  
“Do you understand me!?” Abigail reiterated.  
“Yes, I understand!”  
“Good.” Abigail lowered her gun. “Make sure you mark my words well, if it wasn’t for your mother, you’d already be dead.”  
Mrs. Baines watched Abigail walk over to the shrubbery. “Wait, who are you?”  
“Your own mortality staring you in the face. You have a chance for a fresh start, please be smart enough to take it. I don’t kill lightly, but I do kill.”

 

Abigail opened the door, a knot of anxiety stuck in her throat. She did not want to have this conversation; she did not want any of this. Things had been going so well, and she didn’t even know how to start.  
“Mr.Heyes…”  
He turned to her with a smile, which quickly dropped as he took in the red-rimmed eyes and the quivering lips. “Abi, we’ve been looking for you. In God’s name, what’s wrong?”  
“Mrs. Baines…”  
His forehead wrinkled in concern. He rose, placing an arm round her shoulder and guided her towards a seat. “She’s been formally warned. I don’t want to press charges, she lost her mother.” His voice softened. “Somebody’s got to call a halt to this cycle of revenge,” Heyes held her close. “It’s over, Abi. We can live a normal life at last.”   
Abigail pulled back and shook her head hopelessly. “We can’t. I didn’t believe her, Mr. Heyes, so I went back. I’ve seen her on her own. All we’ve done is ensure that she makes any more attempts look like accidents.”  
Heyes blinked in surprise. “What do you mean - you’ve been to see her?”  
“I listened to the conversation she had with her sister when they were sequestered in a waiting room. The campaign is not over.”  
Heyes frowned. “You listened?”  
“With a device called an artificial eardrum. We use it to spy on people. I heard her – she’s going to make sure ‘accidents’ happen. She’s quite determined.” Abigail sank into a chair. “I watched her walk out of the courthouse and sit with her sister in that carriage – she was smiling.”  
Heyes shook his head in confusion. “She still knows she’ll be charged if anything else happens.”  
“I challenged her and she laughed in my face. She gloated about how nobody would catch her next time - she said nobody would even know she was behind it.” She turned glittering eyes on him. “She even wanted me to tell you that so you’d suffer more.”  
Heyes bit thoughtfully into his lip. “She’s bluffing, Abi. It’s just her way to keep us on edge. What can she do?”  
Abigail’s eyes simmered with worry. “A woman obsessed with hatred can do just about anything. Look what she’s done already. She may be awful, but she did love her mother, and she’d rather blame you than face the possibility that she may have pushed her too far herself. There’s also a chance you did contribute to the woman’s death.”  
Heyes brow crinkled. “So what do you want me to do, surely this is the best way? I can’t see the point of pressing charges? The sheriff has already told us she wouldn’t face above three years, and that’s if she went to prison at all. Nobody actually died in direct relation to her feud; Beth and you survived; Doc Morin and everyone else were killed through Mitchell. She didn’t commission those murders.”  
“I know,” Abigail’s voice rang with hopelessness, “and if anything did happen, we’d have to prove it was a crime and not an accident, and even if we could, the court would probably be on her side. They’d say her mother died because of the strain put on her family by two of the biggest outlaws in the West. They’d paint Beth as a stupid girl infatuated with a gunman, and me…”  
Heyes picked up her unspoken thoughts. “You’d be the scarlet woman, who had two illegitimate children with a criminal, and who even got off with a murder charge?” His hand curled around hers. “I don’t want anyone to look at you that way, Abi. You don’t deserve it.”  
Abigail gulped heavily. “Mr. Heyes, this hasn’t stopped her. I looked into her eyes; all we’ve done is drive her to be more careful. Even if we pursue her through the law all we can hope for is a delay in her plans. She’s like a spider in a web; watching, waiting, planning. Sending her to prison wouldn’t make the smallest difference, as she gets others to do all her dirty work, she could continue her campaign there; in fact, she’d probably get a whole new set of contacts.”  
Heyes felt a chill clutch at his heart. “What are you saying, Abi?”  
“The only thing that will stop this is that woman’s death. It’s not over.” She sucked in a rasping breath. “She laughed in my face, even when I told her that if anyone else dies I would kill her.” Abigail shook her head. “She told me that accidents happen, even to the likes of me.”  
Heyes ran a hand distractedly through his hair. “She was bluffing, Abi. She wouldn’t realize your past; she wouldn’t have taken your threat to kill her seriously.”  
Abigail raised huge, helpless eyes. “She stood with the venom running out of her and told me the hunt was more fun when the prey were running scared! She’s poison, pure hatred.”  
“Abi…?”  
“Oh, God, I don’t know how to tell you this, but I can’t bring Anya into this, Mr. Heyes, I simply can’t.”  
Heyes felt his heart judder before the beat seemed to start again, heavily and painfully. “There must be a way.”  
“How? Kill Joan Baines? You couldn’t do that anymore than I could.” Tears started to stream down Abigail’s face. “I can kill to save a life, not on a nebulous threat like this. I’ve told her I will be watching her and that I will end her life if she tries to hurt anybody else, but to kill so we can be together…?” She dropped her head. “No… I can’t do it, and neither could you. What are we going to do? As long as she’s alive Anya and I have to hide, and the law says you can’t.”  
Heyes felt his breath come in great rasping gasps. A few minutes ago he had a life, a family and a future – now, in the blink of an eye, it was all slipping away again. He grasped her hand. “There’s a way, there has to be.”  
“If we can get the parole lifted, yes,” she sniffed back caustic tears and wiped her eyes with the back of her free hand. “It’s the only way. If not, I can’t bring Anya into this – not if the law says Joan Baines is able to know where you are at all times. I’d advise Jed and Beth to move away too. She’s a serious threat, you have to believe me.”  
Heyes nodded. “I do believe you, Abi. I’d be stupid not to take you seriously. We’ll do that, we’ll apply through the court, surely we can get the conditions lifted after all this!?”  
Her voice trembled. “And if we can’t?”  
Heyes blinked back angry tears, memories of Anya swirling into his mind; of her sitting in his lap, reading to her and laughing as she joined in with all the voices; of watching her dance with joy amongst swirling clouds of bobbing balloons; earnestly solving the puzzles in her books with a little pink tongue, pointed with concentration, at the corner of her mouth. He cherished every minute with her, especially the sight of her covered in flour, tied into an apron far too big for her because she was determined to make jam tarts for her Uncle Han.  
Then he remembered the chilling fear he had felt while goading Mitchell in the Joplin jail. Remembered the fist clutch his heart as Mitchell calmly and quietly threatened Anya’s life and Heyes knew Abi was right. They couldn’t take the chance of bringing their daughter into the middle of this. His lips tightened along with his resolve.  
“We will.” Heyes stood determinedly. “I’m going to see Steven. There must be something we can do about this.”  
Abigail remained seated, looking tired and defeated. “I can’t take losing you again, I just can’t.”   
“It’s not over yet, Abi,” He reached out and drew her to her feet. “Come on, we’re going to see Steven Granger.”  
Abigail shook her head. “I’m going back to Anya. She needs me and I’ve been away too long. A hearing could take months.” She reached up and gently stroked his face. “I’m sorry, but I have to go to her.”  
Shock flashed over Heyes’ face. “This is goodbye?”  
“For now. You always knew I was only here until the investigation was finished. Anya needs her mother, and I can’t change anything here.” She shrugged, blinking soft, brown eyes at him. “I also need to move house. I don’t know if Mitchell and Carson gave Joan Baines my address. I can’t stay in Topeka.”   
Heyes rubbed his chin distractedly. “Don’t go yet, Abi. I need you to tell Steven all of this.”  
Abigail sighed. “Yes, but I’ll have leave soon. I’ve been away for far too long.” 

 

Steven eyed Abigail suspiciously. “Did you threaten her?”  
“Of course,” Abigail confirmed, matter-of-factly.  
Steven frowned. “You do realize that could damage the case against the rest of her co-conspirators, don’t you?”  
“I don’t see why.” Abigail shrugged. “She has no idea who I am, and I’d simply deny it in any case.”  
“You’d lie under oath?” spluttered Steven.  
“In a heartbeat. There’s a world of difference between the letter of the law and the spirit of the law. She has no corroboration.”  
“She’ll recognize you at the men’s trial.”  
“I’ll disguise myself and change my accent. I always thought I’d suit red hair.”  
Steven gave a gasp of exasperation. “I’m not sure you’re a good influence on him. He can’t afford to mix with dishonest people.”  
Abigail arched her brows. “Come now, Steven, I never took you for a naïve man. You know as well as I do that you sometimes have to fight fire with fire. I know how many lawyers use private investigators, and you are perfectly well aware how most of them get their information. I used the artificial eardrum and heard every word of her plans to continue this vendetta, but make it look like an accident.”  
Steven sat back in his seat, pensive eyes cast to the ceiling. “We should pull her back in front of the judge and confront her with this information.”  
Abigail shook her head. “The judge would want to know how I got the information and that will only let her know who she’s dealing with; which reduces the chance of getting evidence if anything happens in the future. No, the negatives outweigh the positives. She’s been warned that she’s being watched, that should be enough.”  
“So what do you suggest?” Steven asked.  
“What I heard with the listening device could be reported to the Governor as evidence collected by the detectives working on this case. Put together with the campaign she orchestrated, it could be grounds to ask for the parole to be lifted,” Abigail suggested, hopefully.  
“We could try.” Steven drummed his fingers on the table. “I’m not optimistic though; not after the events in Joplin.”  
Heyes fixed his attorney with intense dark eyes. “There has to be something you can do, Steven. Abigail’s not happy about bringing our daughter into this, and I agree with her. We’ve already had one daughter murdered. Anya’s just too precious to us to take any chances.”  
“Any child is, Heyes.” Steven sighed. “I guess I need to make a case to the governor based upon the safety of the child, but in order to do so you two would need to be married. He wouldn’t condone living in sin.”  
Abigail and Heyes stared at one another. “I’ve already told her I want to marry her,” said Heyes.  
Abigail frowned. “But if he refuses to lift the parole I’ll have to disappear for Anya’s sake, and that would leave Mr. Heyes unable to marry someone else. He would never be able to rebuild his life.”  
Two pairs of stunned eyes turned on Abigail. “You don’t want to get married, Abi?” Heyes demanded.  
“Yes, I do - very much, but if this doesn’t work out I also want him to be able to move on with his life. He won’t be able to do that if he can’t marry.”  
Dark eyes burned into her. “That’s my problem. I’ll take the risk. Are you keeping your options open, Abi?”  
Abigail’s eyes widened. “No! What options? I’m Anya’s mother - she’s the only person in my life apart from you.”  
Heyes chin firmed. “Then marry me. Make me part of her life too.”  
“And if I have to hide? Decent women don’t get involved with a married man, Mr. Heyes. You could be alone until your parole runs out in fifteen years time.” She paused. “A woman like Randa would be off limits to you.”  
“This has nothing to do with Randa!” Heyes folded his arms. “This is to do with you, me, and our daughter.”  
“And your parole, Mr. Heyes.”  
Heyes eyes hardened. “So you want to be free to move on?”   
“No, Mr. Heyes.” Abigail hooked him with a stare. “Do I need to remind you that I am unconventional enough to have had two illegitimate children by a criminal? I am perfectly capable of living outside wedlock if the mood takes me. Women like Randa are not, and I don’t want you to cut your options if we cannot be together. I’m thinking of what’s best for you!”  
“Well, stop thinking of what’s best, and marry me!”  
Abigail’s eyes sparkled with suppressed laughter. “Do you ever listen to yourself? Why did anyone ever say you had a silver tongue?”  
“I’ve gotta say, she’s got a point,” chuckled Steven. “Like it or not, she is right about it impacting upon your ability to rebuild your life if she has to hide the child. How about a compromise? You two agree to get engaged. I tell the governor the delay is to give the child time to get to know her father and come to terms with her new life. We can give him a date not long after the hearing.”  
Abigail eyed Heyes cautiously. “I’m up for that if you are.” She stretched out her hand and clasped his. “I’m truly trying to look after you. There’s nobody else, and there hasn’t been.” She turned back to Steven. “ How long would it take to get the Governor to hear this?”  
Steven tilted his head, his eyes raised in estimation. “Two, maybe three months at the most?”  
“Then give him a date for early summer. May, perhaps?” Abigail smiled. “Does that help, Mr. Heyes?”  
“Maybe,” he gave her a hard stare, “but we’ve got to talk once we’re outta here.”  
Abigail turned back to the lawyer. “What do you think the chances are, Steven?”   
“I have to be honest. The chances of getting it completely lifted are about nil, but we have a good chance of getting it shortened, and maybe get some of the restrictions removed to make him harder for Joan Baines to track. Heyes’ cooperation with the authorities should help.”  
“Thanks, Steven.” Heyes stood, pulling Abigail to her feet by the hand he still held. “C’mon, I’ve got a few questions for you.”  
Abigail rolled her eyes and smiled at Steven. “Bye!”  
“Don’t just ignore me,” muttered Heyes. “I’m serious.”  
“I’m practicing for when we’re married,” Abigail protested.  
“That’s the man’s job!” Heyes snorted as she was dragged from the room. He pulled her into the hotel corridor. “I thought you wanted to marry me.”  
“I do, but I’ve hurt you enough. If we can’t be together there’s no reason why you shouldn’t be free to build a life with someone else. You need to be able to enjoy life’s gifts.”  
“Gifts?” Heyes pushed her against the wall and placed a hand on either side of her head. “How many men have you slept with, Abigail? Tell me the truth.”  
She held his burning gaze, her mouth twitching into a smile. “Shouldn’t you be asking me how many men I’ve stayed awake with? Don’t be an ass.” Her eyes became grave. “Mr. Heyes, I’m trying to look after you. Seriously, what if I have to hide Anya? I don’t want to saddle you with another life sentence unless I can be around to enjoy it with you.”  
“What about Cage?”  
Heyes watched genuine surprise swirl in her dark eyes. “Cage? What about him?”  
“He cares about you.”  
“Yes, I was close to his wife and supported him through tough times. That’s all.” Abigail frowned. “You’re serious? Mr. Heyes, he’s a friend – a good friend, and that’s all there is to it. I don’t see him that way. He’s like a brother.”  
“Yeah, well men don’t have female friends. Not unless they want something.”  
“Clementine is your friend. Beth is your friend. So is her sister – and speaking of sisters, there’s that nun too.”  
Heyes scowled. “That’s different.”  
“No it’s not.” She stretched out a hand and stroked his face. “What’s gotten into you? I have to leave tomorrow, why are you making this so unpleasant?”  
Heyes’ voice softened, his heart skipping a beat. “Don’t go tomorrow. Not yet. Give me a day, let’s tell people we’re booking a wedding date and celebrate. Let’s just do something normal – for once in our lives.”  
Abigail nodded. “A day?”   
“It’s my birthday tomorrow and almost everyone is here, so we could celebrate our engagement as well as my birthday. We could have a fine dinner?” Heyes dropped his head down to hers. “I get worried you’ll disappear and never come back again, Abi.”  
She laced her fingers through his hair and pulled him down to meet her lips. “I’m not reluctant, Mr. Heyes. I’m looking after you, and I’m looking after Anya. When do I do anything else? Just trust me, please!? What else do I have to do to convince you?”  
Heyes drew her into a deep kiss, drawing back to nibble on the shell of her ear. “Come with me, Mrs. Stewart. I’ll show you.” 

 

“What’re we waitin’ for, Heyes? I’m hungry.”   
Heyes looked around the hotel lobby. “Jesse and Harry. They’re not here yet.”  
“They can meet us at the restaurant.” The Kid frowned, following Heyes’ eyes to the staircase. “What’s gotten into you tonight? You’re like a mongrel watchin’ a butcher’s trashcan. They’ll be here in a minute.” He followed Heyes’ eyes up the staircase before glancing down at Abigail, seated in the hotel lobby, not-so-casually flicking through the pages of ‘Collier’s Weekly’ with enough force to rip the paper. The Kid narrowed his eyes. “Right, what’s goin’ on?”   
“I want us to have a nice dinner. We won’t all be together again until the men’s trial; and the law’s still fighting over where that’s going to be held. We’re leaving Murreyville to head back to the Double J, Harry’s going home, Cage and Sheehan are heading off…” Heyes cleared his throat nervously. “Abi’s going back to Anya.”  
“Aww, Heyes, that’s tough,” the Kid laid a hand on Heyes’ shoulder. “She’ll be back soon, though, huh? She’s going to get Anya and sort somethin’?”  
Heyes nodded, his serious gaze belying his smile. “She’s taking her on a promised vacation to the seaside, but yeah, we’re sorting something.”   
“You’re upset, I can tell.”  
“Yeah, Kid, I am, but I want to enjoy tonight.”  
“Heyes, this is me you’re talkin’ to – you’re up to somethin’. Should I start worryin’?”  
Heyes looked about shiftily. “We’re going to announce our engagement, Kid.”  
“Heyes!” the Kid pulled his cousin into a back-slapping bear hug, grinning at Abigail over Heyes’ shoulder. “That’s great news.”  
“Ssh!” Heyes darted a look at Cage and Sheehan over at the front desk. “It’s not as straightforward as that.”  
The Kid pulled back, his eyes narrowing. “Nothin’ ever is with you. What’s wrong now?”  
“Abi listened in to Jean Baines using some kind of listening device. She’s not finished; in fact, she’s planning on a series of accidents now. Steven wants to try to get the parole lifted so we’ve got a better chance of hiding Anya from her, but he thinks we need to be ‘respectable’ to get a sympathetic hearing.”  
“Accidents?”  
“Yeah. We need to tell Belle and Jesse, and you need to discuss this with Beth. She could be at risk again too if she marries you. You two might have to leave the Double J as well so she has a right to know what’s going on.”   
Kid nodded reluctantly, his own doubts about marriage suddenly over-shadowed by the possibility that Beth may decide to back out. “Yeah.”   
Heyes noted the distress this bit of news caused so he quickly carried on with his next thought. “But let’s wait until we’re all back at the Double J, huh? Mrs. Baines is not going to pull anything while her husband’s facing trial, so we’ve got a bit of time.”  
The Kid drew a hand through his hair. “Damn!” He paused. “The engagement’s a good thing though, ain’t it? I mean between you and Abi.”   
“Yeah, Kid, it’s great, but we’d both have liked it to happen naturally, and not be pushed into it.”   
Heyes looked into the questioning blue eyes of his partner. The Kid took a long, breath and folded his arms to give himself time to consider the unspoken subtext. “Yah don’t have to get married if you don’t want to, Heyes. You’ll still be Anya’s pa.”  
Intense dark eyes hooked onto the Kid’s gaze. “I’m keen enough. It was Abi, she needed to be persuaded.”  
“Why? She loves you. I know she does.”  
“She’s worried about us getting hitched for the hearing but having to hide with Anya for years if the parole isn’t lifted. She thinks I won’t be able to move on with my life – I won’t find a decent woman and settle down. She wants to make sure everything’s behind us before she commits.” Heyes gave a snort of irritation. “Dammit! Why does everything have to be so hard?”   
A smile tugged at the Kid’s lips. “Heyes – she just bein’ cautious -for your sake. I know she loves you so stop over thinkin’ things and either get engaged, or walk away and give it time. In any case, you can tell the Governor you’re engaged. Abi’d back ya up.”  
“I guess.” Heyes gazed off to where Abi sat, her arms folded now and the magazine lay rejected on the table in front of her.  
The Kid laid a hand on Heyes’ shoulder. “Heyes, when you were at your darkest – what did you dream of?” A pair of intense, dark eyes flicked back to look into the examining blue eyes. “Look at how close you are to that, and enjoy yourself. Don’t you want to have some kind of call on her if she has to go to ground for a bit?”  
“I haven’t got a ring, Kid. I haven’t got anything to give her.”  
“Heyes, you’ve given her two daughters. Don’t ya think you’d better make an honest woman of her before ya give her anything else?” Heyes started to chuckle, a deep resonating chortle, quickly picked up by his cousin who cast a glance at the legs scurrying down the stairs. “Here’s Jesse and Harry. C’mon, I’m starving.” 

 

“Wine?” Harry looked up at the waiter. “I ordered a beer.”  
“I know, sir, and its coming,” the waiter nodded towards Heyes, “but the gentleman ordered wine for the table.”  
Harry brightened. “Oh, it’s free? Yeah, I’ll have a glass.”  
Heyes waited, watching until a glass was placed in front of everyone at the table before he tapped his glass with the handle of his knife. “Gentlemen!” He turned to Abigail with a smile. “I didn’t include you because I hope I’ve already got your attention.”  
“As you may have noticed, I have ordered some wine to celebrate our last evening together and to thank each and every one of you for your support and help over the last few difficult months. I genuinely don’t know how we would have found a way forward without you.” Heyes lifted his glass. “Grandpa Curry used to say good friends know the song that’s written on your heart and can sing it back to you when you’ve forgotten the words. I never truly understood that until now. I lost my way - and then my mind, in that hell hole. I wouldn’t have made it back without the people sitting around this table – and a few who aren’t here. I’d like to propose a toast - to good friends, near and far.”  
The toast rippled around the table accompanied by the chinking of glasses and the repetition of the salute. Heyes smiled softly at Steven and the Kid. “A couple of you already know, but I want to announce that today Abi agreed to marry me. I thought this’d be a good time to make the news public. I don’t know why she’s stuck by me, but I’m glad she has. Gentlemen, please toast my clever and beautiful fiancée, Abigail Stewart.”  
Abigail blushed puce, the chairs scraping back as the men stood to toast her. The Kid’s voice cutting through the cheers and laughter which followed. “Nah, you don’t get off that easy, Heyes. I’ve known these two for years, and I can truly say it’s a marriage of two very unique minds. I’m glad she finally decided to make an honest man of him, and there’s more truth to that than there usually is to the old joke. Happy Birthday, Heyes!” He raised his glass in salute. “To the happy couple!”  
The last roar of the tribute faded away, glasses tinkled as they hit one another, and men came forward to slap Heyes on the back and snatch a kiss from the definitely blushing bride-to-be.  
“I knew ages ago,” Harry chortled.  
“Ya never, ya just guessed,” muttered Sheehan, looking deeply at Cage’s quiet introspection.   
Heyes’ eyes drifted down the table, catching Jesse’s proud nod. He suddenly caught himself, surprised at the honor growing in his breast at knowing this man not only approved – he thoroughly endorsed Heyes’ choice. Would he have turned out differently if he’d had somebody in his life to make proud? Heyes quickly decided it no longer mattered. He did now.  
“C’mere,” the Kid pushed back Harry who was persistently slobbering his congratulations on a cringing Abigail’s hot cheek. “Give me some of that!” He pulled her up into a deep embrace before kissing her softly on the lips, holding her gaze captive with glittering, blue eyes. “And about time too, lady. You’re made for one another. You do know that, don’t ya?” He laughed down at her discomposure. “In all these years I never thought I’d see this. You’re blushin’!”  
“I don’t like a fuss, Jed.”  
“Tough!” the Kid dragged her up into another hug. “Welcome to the family, Abi.”  
Jesse stood by patiently. “Yes, Abi,” he dropped his head to kiss her, his hand tightening on her shoulder. “And thank you. I know how much you’ve done to look after my family. It couldn’t be more fitting for you to join it.”  
She turned her eyes up to Cage who waited behind the rest of the company. “Congratulations, darlin’. I hope you’ll be very happy.”  
Abigail caught his hand. “Are you really happy for me?” she whispered.  
He smiled gently. “You deserve happiness, Abi, and I really want that for you and Anya.” He darted a look at Heyes. “But if you hurt her, I’ll hunt ya down Heyes.”  
Heyes thrust out a hand. “Then I’d deserve it, Cage, but it’ll never happen. I give you my word.”   
Cage took the proffered hand and gave it a firm shake. “I feel like a protective pa. This just ain’t right for a man of my age!” 

 

“So, where are you two going to live?” asked Harry, digging into his steak.  
Abigail sliced into her chicken pot pie. “We haven’t discussed the details, but I’m going to put my house up for sale when I leave here.”  
“Going to fetch the ankle-biter, huh?” Harry quipped.  
Abigail’s dark eyes hardened. “If you are referring to my daughter you’re about to find out that I bite too!”  
Harry’s mobile eyebrows wavered, finally deciding to meet in the middle. “Well, sure ya do. I wouldn’t expect anything else.” He sat back smiling at Heyes. “You gonna get a horse trough for this new place?”  
Heyes glanced at Cage before he glinted a warning. “Don’t push me, Harry.”  
“Why? You gonna dunk me now, with all these lawmen around?”  
“Huh?” Cage’s head lifted. “Who got dunked?”  
Abigail’s eyes flickered with alarm, knowing the enormous lawman wouldn’t see the funny side of the story. “Mr. Heyes, I dunked him.”  
“Yeah, she was never one to let him get away with much. I’ve seen her turn the tables on him more than once.” The Kid picked up on Abigail’s anxiety and was quick to deflect it. He dropped his voice to a harsh whisper. “Ya want to try the horse trough, Harry? Are you tryin’ to cause trouble? Cage’d have Heyes’ head if he knew the whole story.”   
“Why’d ya dunk him?” Cage demanded.  
“Because I’d travelled all that way and he’d brought in Harry without even thinking of me. I was annoyed.”  
“Yeah, I could see that,” Cage nodded sagely. “I’d be angry if they’d picked Harry over me too.”  
“Hey!” Harry protested. “I’m a good detective. I helped.”  
“Sure ya did, Harry. Cage and Abi are just gettin’ competitive; them bein’ in the same line and all,” laughed the Kid.   
“Not any more,” Heyes eyes slid towards Abigail. “She’s going to live a safe, domestic life from now on. She’s not going to work.”  
Abigail’s eyebrows arched. “You’ve decided that, have you?”  
“Yes,” Heyes nodded. “No wife of mine will have to work.”  
Abigail’s chin set in challenge. “What if she wants to?”  
Heyes cheeks dimpled. “Abi, you can do anything you want to; as long as it’s not dangerous, and doesn’t scare horses in the street.”  
“A pretty good guide for how to survive your parole, if you ask me, Heyes,” muttered Cage. “You should take your own advice.”  
“What did you want to do?” asked Heyes, blanking Cage.  
“I thought you wanted to start a detective agency, Mr. Heyes. Surely you’ll need my help sometimes?”  
Heyes nodded. “Sure, but Anya will need you at home.”  
“Of course, but I wanted to ask you about Hester…” The Kid stared at Heyes with eyes twinkling with humor as Abigail continued. He had guessed what was coming. “She’s been so good to me. She took me in when there was nobody else. I couldn’t leave her behind.”  
Heyes chuckled. “A bit like the Kid and me? Sure, we’ll sort something. It’s always good to have a doctor about. How do you think David will like a lady doctor moving to town, Jesse?”  
“I reckon he’ll be fine, but Tricia won’t be happy if she’s as pretty as Abi,” Jesse grinned. “David might end up working pretty closely with her.”  
Abigail laughed. “I adore Hester, but I think Tricia will be just fine, Jesse. Hester is in her fifties and has little interest in men.”  
“The motherly type?” asked Jesse.  
Heyes, the Kid and Abigail exchanged a glance. “It depends on what your mother was like.” Abigail replied, measuredly. “She’s a sweetheart, but she can be…”  
Jesse looked from one to the other. “What?”   
“A sharpshooter who’ll take no prisoners,” Cage finished Abigail’s sentence. “She was a Pinkerton during the war who was arrested for spying by the confederates. A real clever lady; but woe betide any man who tries to tell her what to do. I found that out early on, to my cost. I was lucky to get out with my hide intact. She can break a man’s leg with one blow of her tongue.”  
“And you’re gonna live with her as well as Abi?” chortled Harry. “I’d rather go back to jail if I were you.”  
Heyes sighed. “Well, I like Hester, and I love Abi, so I’ll take my chances, Harry.”  
“She might not want to live with us, but I’d like to give her the option. I don’t know what would have become of Anya and me without her. I can’t leave her all alone.” Abigail reached out and took Heyes’ hand. “Thanks.”  
“You’re not going to keep calling him Mr. Heyes, are you, Abi? Not if you’re married. It’ll sound like you’re arguing all the time.” Jesse smiled. “It sounds a bit like how children know they’re in real trouble when you use their middle name.”  
Abigail nodded. “Yes, but I hate the name ‘Hannibal.’   
“His middle name?” Harry dropped his head at the glare from Heyes. “What about Joshua?”  
“I never knew him when he was going straight. I never knew him as that.”  
“Can’t you call me ‘Heyes’ or ‘Han?’”  
“It doesn’t feel right.” Abigail shrugged. “I’ll think about it.”  
“I never thought I’d see the day when she’d be at a loss for names to call ya, Heyes.” The Kid sat back with a grin. “I think marriage is gonna be good for you two.” 

 

Heyes fell back on the blanket panting and laughing. It had been a wild, hard ride out to the countryside to find a spot for some lunch and seclusion. “Enough, woman! I’m hungry.”  
Abigail sat up, buttoning her blouse. “You’re hungry? You!?”  
“Yeah,” he frowned. “It’s been a long time, but I’m finally looking forward to food.”  
“Well, you have worked off a lot of energy,” smiled Abigail. “What did the hotel give us for our picnic?” She rooted around in the bag and brought out a package of sandwiches, a small pie, a stone bottle of lemonade, and a couple of apples. She peered into the sandwiches. “Not bad, potted meat, or cheese and onion.” She gave a light chuckle. “The food of love, huh, cheese and onion?”  
“We can take the onion off, I suppose.”  
“Or both eat it.”  
Heyes reached for a potted meat sandwich. “I can’t believe you tried to outrun me on that horse. She’s much smaller than mine, you never stood a chance. You were gonna lose the minute you set out.”   
Abigail handed him the lemonade with a twinkle in her eye. “You caught me, who said I lost?”  
“Is this what it’s going to be like, Abi? Relaxing, fun…” Heyes looked around at the insects buzzing around in the sunshine. Words suddenly flooded into his brain, lines from a letter she had written to him in prison. He had read it over and over again, until the words were seared into his memory: ‘There will be a future where you will be able to walk in the sunshine and feel the warmth of a soft hand slipped into yours. I promise you that the small joys will be yours again.’ The quote came unbidden, surprising him with its stealth, but a smile twitched at his lips. She had promised him this, and delivered.   
Abigail tilted her head observing the switch of mood in the pensive eyes. “Are you alright?”  
His gaze locked onto hers. “I’m better than alright. It could only be better if Anya was here.”  
“When you consider what we’ve just done, I’m pretty glad she’s not.” She reached over and adjusted the blanket so it lay smoothly over the flat rock, the February grass still being too wet to sit on.  
“Yeah, I guess,” Heyes nodded. “One day to be like anybody else; to love, play, and act like any other couple. I want normal. We’ve got one day to do all that before you leave. No crimes, no mysteries, no charges hanging over my head; just a man and woman having a picnic on a bright, sunny day, even if it’s none too warm. This is what I should have been working for, a life, a family and a good woman. ”  
Abigail’s eyes twinkled. “A good woman is only a bad one who didn’t get caught, Mr. Heyes. I’ve don’t even come close to the model of respectability.”  
“A good woman with a little bad in her?” Heyes reached for another sandwich. “They say there’s a lid for every pot, it sounds like a good fit for a bad man with some good in him.”  
“You’re not a bad man. You’re a stupid one. You behaved badly; it’s not the same thing. You’ve now chosen to behave differently, and that’ll bring a different life.”  
“Stupid?” Heyes’ eyes widened along with his grin. “Only you would dare say that to me.”  
“It’s good for you.” Abigail laughed, cheekily. “Eat your onion.”  
“When I think back on everything we’ve done. Do you think life will ever be so exciting again, Abi?”  
“If you’re around? Yes; definitely.” Abigail reached out and took his hand. “No matter what happens with the parole you have a wonderful life ahead. You’re free, and you have a great plan.” She paused, handing him a dish. “Apple pie? It’s great to see your appetite back. Let’s get you built up.”  
“Built up? You worked so hard, all alone.” He kissed her fingers lightly and dropped them again to take the proffered dish. “You’ve been building me up for the last five years, and what did I do? I pitched you into a horse trough.”  
Abigail picked the onion from a sandwich. “Yes, it was a lovely evening - apart from everything that happened. We’re going to have to get more sensible if we’re going to be around children. What kind of example would we be setting? Anya’s wild enough as it is.”  
“The apple hasn’t fallen far from the tree with her, has it? Do you ever wonder about Becky? What she’d have turned into?”  
“She wasn’t the same baby as Anya; she was calmer and less rambunctious. I think she’d have been quite different to her sister, probably quite studious. She could be easily hurt and withdrawn to some people if they’d said something which bothered her, but she was a mummy’s girl through and through - even quite clingy at times.” Abigail’s eyes misted over. “She also had your eyes, Mr. Heyes. She was still very much your daughter. Anya has your wild side; Becky was more like the other side of you; the thinker and planner.”  
Heyes gave a rasping sigh, his preoccupied eyes drifting off to the horizon. “It’s been a long time since I made serious plans, Abi.”   
“Well, you’d better get started, because your life is about to change.”  
“Yeah, do you think anyone would employ an ex-outlaw as a detective?”  
Abigail prodded at her pie with a fork. “Mr. Heyes, I think they’ll pay just to meet you. You’ll do just fine.”   
“Well I guess we’d better get back, the clouds are gathering. It’s still early in the year for a picnic.”  
“Yes, but we have dinner tonight, Mr. Heyes, just the two of us. I can’t remember the last time that happened. A whole day - just the two of us.”  
“I can,” a secretive smile played over Heyes’ lips. “It was right after that flim flam in Crawford.”  
Abigail’s dark eyes latched onto his. “Hmm, when Becky was conceived - we will have to be careful.”  
He leaned forward, fixing her with intense eyes. “Do we? We’re getting married, Abi. Maybe we should think about expanding the family?”  
“When I’m ready, Mr. Heyes, let’s just enjoy the day.” She glanced up to the sky. “We’d better get back to town. We don’t want to get soaked, especially not today.”  
Heyes frowned in curiosity. “Why especially today?”  
“It’s your birthday today, the 24th February. I have a surprise arranged.”  
“A surprise? I thought today was supposed to be just the two of us. That’s why we came out here.”  
“Well, we’ll need a third person for something I have in mind,” Abigail arched her brow mysteriously.  
“What for? What are you up to?”  
“I want you to do something with me you’ve only done with one other woman. In fact, you’ve never, ever done it just one on one with a woman. I want to be the first.”   
“Huh?”  
“Eat up, Mr. Heyes, then we have to get back to town to prepare for you birthday surprise.”

 

“How do you dress, sir?”  
Heyes looked uncomfortably down at the tailor before shuffling back into the shadows. “I usually dress away from the window. You’ve had this made for me, Abi?”  
She smiled over at him in the dark, charcoal suit. “Certainly. I gave him your measurements, so he only has a few adjustments to make. I hate that old, brown thing you’ve been dragging out. It never fitted correctly and it’s so old-fashioned. It’s part of your birthday.” She walked over and flicked away a few specks of lint from his chest. “Yes, that’s SO much better. You’ll need to look professional if you’re going to start your own business. Now, choose a hat to go with it.”   
“This is expensive, Abi.”  
“Nonsense, not if you consider all the birthdays I’ve missed. Divide the cost by ten and it comes out as quite a reasonable gift.”  
“I love it, Abi, but really?”   
“Absolutely.” Abigail nodded crisply. “You need it, for what I have planned next.”  
“Next!? What’s going on?”  
“Nothing for you to worry about. I need you to look your best for your birthday surprise, is all. Now, I’m going to get ready too. Pick a shirt and tie.” She looked down at his feet and grimaced. “Can you help him with some shoes too, Mr. Slater? Those boots won’t do, they just won’t do at all.”

 

It was a suave, debonair Heyes who held the door open for Abigail dressed in dark burgundy, her hair swept up fashionably high. “You look beautiful, Abi, but where are we going? We’re all dressed up with no place to go.”  
“We do have somewhere to go.” Abigail slipped her arm through his. “We’re having dinner in the best restaurant in town, after cocktails in the hotel salon.”  
“It’s only four o’clock. It’s too early for dinner, and we’ll be wall-eyed by eight if we start drinking now- at least, you will.”  
They strolled down the sidewalk arm in arm. “I agree. That’s why I thought we needed to mark our engagement in some permanent way.”  
Heyes narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Mark it? How? I hate all this mystery, Abi.”  
She patted his arm and chuckled. “Nonsense. You love a good mystery, but this one is now solved.” She drew to a halt outside a shop and pointed to the words painted on the window.  
He sucked in a breath. “A photographer? We’re getting a photograph taken?”  
She nodded. “Yes. I wanted us to part with something to remember one another, and this wonderful day.” Abigail arched an eyebrow, “something different to what you’ve left me with in the past.” She toyed with his lapel. “You look so handsome. I want to capture this moment forever.”  
Heyes started to laugh. “Something I’ve only ever done with one other woman? You had my mind working overtime there, and this isn’t what I came up with!” He reached out and embraced her. “What a wonderful idea.” He pushed the door open, the bell tinkling to announce their arrival to the photographer.   
Abigail’s forehead crinkled in thought. “So what did you come up with?”  
Heyes’ dark eyes glittered with devilment as he held the door for her. “I’ll show you later. I don’t want to mess up your hair for the photograph, do I? 

 

The next day dawned bright and sunny, but the caustic, low sun lent an unrealistic air as it cast long-legged, stick-like shadows on the morning streets. Breakfast had been strained, with only the Kid eating a decent amount; Sheriff Jacobs having been up and about since dawn.  
It was a subdued little group who wandered over to the railway station and put Abigail’s bags on the train before they waited; restless and tense, for the imminent departure which started to feel more and more like a bereavement.   
“I’m gonna say goodbye here, Abi.” The Kid dropped a kiss on Abigail’s cheek and hugged her tightly. “Thanks, darlin’, for everythin’ – but mostly for not givin’ up.”  
Abigail shrugged uncertainly. “Not giving up? I wouldn’t even have come back if it wasn’t for you.” She glanced around the railway platform, where Heyes stood a few feet away, waiting for her to say her farewells to the Kid and Sheriff Jacobs.   
The Kid pulled off his hat and ran his hand through his hair and eyed the sheriff uneasily. “Yeah, I wish I could say I was sorry about how I persuaded ya, Abi, but look at how it all turned out, huh?” He sighed. “I never did buy you that hat, did I?”  
“Save your money for your wife, Jed. I’ve got a feeling your family will be growing very soon. You’ll need it.” She turned to the lawman. “Sheriff Jacobs, thanks for giving us the day together. It meant everything to us.”  
“You’re very welcome, ma’am. It wasn’t exactly an unreasonable request, and from everything I’ve seen and heard, you’re real good for him.”   
“Thank you, but I must ask. Did Mr. Heyes tell you about Joan Baines’ plans?”  
The Kid nodded. “Yeah, he did, Abi. We’ll sort somethin’. I’m sure Jesse will have thoughts on the matter. Don’t worry about it.” He patted her upper arms. “Have a great holiday with Anya. We’ll all be thinkin’ about you, and we can’t wait until you come to see us.”  
“Aw, Jed. You always know how to get to me.” Abigail turned, proffering a handshake to Sheriff Jacobs. “It’s been lovely meeting you. Thanks again for your help.”  
“Not at all, Mrs. Stewart.” The sheriff smiled, glancing over at the ex-outlaw standing a few feet away. “I want both Curry and Heyes to stay on the straight and narrow; getting married and living a normal life will be a big part of that. I look forward to seeing you and your daughter in Brookswood very soon. I’m sure folks will make you most welcome.”  
“They did on my last visit, sheriff. Do you understand about the specific threat of ‘accidents?’ Everyone must be vigilant. It’s a serious threat.”  
“Yes, ma’am. Mr. Granger discussed that before he left yesterday. I’ll keep an eye on any strangers in town, as much as I can, that is.”  
“It’s all we can do, isn’t it?” She laid a soft hand on the sheriff’s forearm. “Thank you.”  
“Ma’am, why are you standing here talking to me? You got a fiancé chompin’ at the bit over there. Go and make the most of your last few minutes.”

 

Heyes looked down at her, his heart thumping with trepidation. “Abi, I’m scared if I let you get on that train and ride out of here, I’ll never see you again.”  
She reached up and touched his face. “Me too, but I have to go, a'ghaol. Anya needs her mother; she’s been really patient and she deserves a treat for being so brave in Topeka.”  
“I know,” Heyes pulled her close. “Is it terrible for a man to envy his daughter? I want to come with you.”  
Abigail dropped her head onto his shoulder. “And I want you to come too, but the parole doesn’t allow it.” She let out a rasping breath. “I’ll miss you.”  
Heyes drew her to him, dropping his head and great sucking in great lungs full of her essence, his stomach full of fluttering emptiness. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Abi. I know we talked about this, but now we’re facing it, it’s not such a great idea.”   
“Don’t do anything stupid. I need you to be strong, Mr. Heyes. I can’t hold it up all the time,” she turned her face up to give him weak smile.   
“Yes, we’re parents and that means we have responsibilities.” Heyes sighed. “One day I’ll take her to the seaside. Who knows, it might be sooner than we think, huh?” He groaned. “Oh, Abi, what wouldn’t I give to come with you?”  
He felt the weak chuckle against his chest. “Give? You won’t give up your freedom, Mr. Heyes. I won’t let you.” She pulled back with a smile.   
“How will I find you?”  
“Mayzee will know. You can always contact me through her, until I send you an address. I promise to send our whereabouts to you when I settle somewhere.” She grasped both of his hands. “I’m so glad this isn’t like last time. You understand the danger to your daughter and we can work together until it’s safe or the parole is lifted.”  
Their eyes met, reality hitting hard.  
“I love you, Abi.”   
She nodded. “l love you too.” She gulped back her emotions. “Why is it you can never love someone as much as you can miss them?” Tears spilled over until they streamed down her cheeks. “I’m afraid, Mr. Heyes.”  
Heyes gathered her up in his arms, hugging her tightly. “Me too, Abi. I need to get the parole lifted.” Heyes gulped heavily. “I wouldn’t be where I am without you, in fact; I’m not even sure I’d still be alive.”  
“We must have done something very bad in a previous life, to have been put through all this.”  
Heyes shook his head. “No, it’s something I did in this life, and it’s affecting you and Anya. The worst case scenario is that I could be on parole for fifteen more years, hopefully it will be a whole lot less than that, but we need to be realistic. My arrest in Joplin won’t have helped matters.”   
She smiled up at him with pained eyes, caressing his cheek. “Let’s see what the governor comes back with and plan from there, a'ghaol.”  
“I know; we can’t bring Anya into this if it’s not safe.” Heyes nodded. “We agreed.”   
He gripped her by the top of her arms, his fingers tightening. “Abi, if I stay on my parole and keep my nose clean, I at least have a future – sometime. But I gotta tell you, the wait will be hard. I’ve realized that I’ve spent too much of my life just waiting to have one, from Valparaiso to now.”  
Abigail gulped heavily. “Even if he won’t make adjustments right away, he might in the future; not to mention what the next one might do. There’s hope, you can’t throw it all away.”  
“Yes, Abi, I can’t think of a promise you’ve made you didn’t keep. I know you’ll tell her, I know we agreed but it’s gonna be real hard if the parole isn’t lifted.”  
She nodded firmly. “If you don’t get anywhere with the governor within the foreseeable future, we walk away. You rebuild your life.”   
“And you, Abi?” He sighed, dropping a finger on her lips. “Hear me out. It may work, but if it doesn’t I don’t want you to mortgage your future. We agreed, and I want you to be happy too.” Heyes watched her stiffen and cut her off. “We’ll give it our very best shot, but if we know there’s no hope we have to be sensible and let it go, for my sanity and for yours.”  
Her dark eyes bored into his. “You want to end it?”  
“No.” Heyes cast a look around the platform, quickly identifying a dark corner at the side of the ticket office. Victorian sensibilities didn’t approve of overt displays of affection and he didn’t want Abigail to have a tough journey facing disapproving matrons and lascivious men. He pushed her into the nook, embracing her hungrily. “No,” he repeated. He caught her mouth up in a fierce kiss, probing and exploring, tasting her one more time. He pulled back, staring deeply into her. “This won’t end as long as one of us draws breath. We might not be together, but it won’t be over. It’ll echo down the ages with our children, and their children.” His voice softened. “But I want you to be happy. Hopefully it’ll be with me, but that’s up to the Governor. I have no say in it.”  
Abigail smiled. “Get married, have children, build a future. Your natural state is to have a partner.” She drew him into a hug and whispered hoarsely in his ear. “Promise me you’ll do that. You’ll have such beautiful children.”  
Heyes gulped. “No, not yet. It’s not time. I’ll make that promise if and when I’m ready.” He looked up, the clouds of steam and screaming whistle of the guard indicating that the last of the stragglers should get on board. He walked over to the train and helped her onto the viewing platform.  
“Goodbye, Abi.” His long fingers trailed over her cheek before he kissed her gently on the lips. “For now. Don’t forget you promised to see me again.”  
“I did, and I always keep my promises.” Abigail blinked back tears. “I didn’t promise when, though.”  
The train started to move, chugging inexorably away. Abigail stood watching his tall, slim figure through the mist of steam and smoke, getting further and further away. Neither of them waved. Neither of them moved for the longest time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Historical Notes  
> The phrase ankle-biter was first recorded as being used in recorded in the mid-19th century. Harper's Magazine, September 1850.  
> Joseph Toynbee invented the artificial eardrum in 1852 as an aid to hearing, but it was quickly adapted as a covert listening device, similar to a cross between an ear trumpet and a telescope. The eardrum was made of vulcanized rubber and the tube was used in the same way as placing a glass against a wall, but gave an enhanced listening experience. Victorian ingenuity meant that versions were made to be easily concealed in hats, sleeves and even tiaras.


	12. The Hiatus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Jordan family is all together again  
> Steven and Jacobs have their meeting with the governor  
> Wedding preparations get underway  
> A new friend arrives in Brookswood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some cursing

The Hiatus

Belle wrapped her arms around Mayzee's shoulders, embracing her warmly. "I can never thank you enough for everything you've done. I do wish there was something I could do to return the favor. On the other hand, I hope I never have to."  
"You'll be missed," Mayzee smiled. "You and Beth have been so helpful in keeping everything running smoothly. Please promise me you'll keep in touch."  
"Oh, we will. I just don't know how to repay you." Belle's eyes drifted over to Henry Stamford who reached out to get the boy down from the top of a baggage trolley. "J.J., get down from there! Those bags belong to other people; I don't want you damaging them."  
A giggling girl thrust her dark head up from between two large trunks. "Fooled ya, J.J.! I'm over here."  
"Anya Rebecca Stewart!" Belle shouted. "Can't you stay out of mischief for ten minutes? Come and stand over here, nicely. Well brought-up young ladies do not go climbing over trucks and trolleys like barbarians." She turned back to her son. "J.J., come here, beside me."  
"Sorry, Mrs. Jordan," murmured Rebecca as the two prodding and chuckling children fell in beside one another on the railway platform.  
"I know I shouldn't laugh in case I encourage her," Beth whispered, "but she's so impossible she's funny. Maybe you should have left her playing with the drinking fountain – at least she couldn't fall off that. I couldn't hold my head up if we sent her back to Abi with a broken leg."  
Mayzee sighed. "She had her hand jammed on the nozzle so she could shoot jets of water at people. Honestly! How does she even think of such things?"  
"She takes after her father." Belle nodded. "It's not as though Abi is soft with her either, she's just an extraordinarily wilful child," she sighed, "but so engaging with those twinkling eyes."  
"And extraordinarily bright. She gets bored easily; then her mind goes off in search of stimulation." Mayzee looked down at the children, prodding at the frame of a newly replaced window, attracted by the smell of the linseed oil in the fresh putty. "She reads at a very advanced level for her age, and her French is superb. She is leaving fourteen year olds behind without even trying."  
"She needs a father," grinned Beth. "I do hope he and Abi can sort things out."  
"I'm sure they have, they're clearly made for one another, and it's all over. When we got the telegram telling us we could go home I couldn't believe it was over at last. That's why I checked with the Pinkertons." Belle watched the passengers streaming from the train which had pulled into the station. "This is our train, J.J., time to say your goodbyes."  
J.J.'s eyes widened in horror as Rebecca advanced on her friend with puckered lips. "Bye, J.J."  
"Bye," the boy stepped back. "Ya ain't gonna kiss me, are ya?"  
Rebecca nodded determinedly. "Yeah! That's what all the other folks are doing." She threw out an arm to indicate the throngs of people coming and going on the platform.  
"But that's soppy."  
"You're soppy," Rebecca reached out an arm and put the target of her affections in a headlock. "I want a kiss, and we've got to say goodbye like they do in books."  
"In my stories they get shot or walk the plank," J.J. protested.  
The poor boy's complaints fell on empty ears. The larger, older girl dragged his reluctant face up and smushed her lips soggily over his.  
"Yuech!"  
Rebecca released him and dimpled into her most charming grin. "There, it wasn't so bad, was it?"  
J.J. staggered back, backhanding away his friend's devotions as though contaminated. "Don't ya ever do that again!"  
"I won't have to. I've said 'goodbye' now," Rebecca explained, reasonably. "Will you write to me?"  
"Yes, he will, Becky. I'll make sure of it." Belle stooped to give the girl an enveloping hug. "We all will, and we'll all write our own parts of the letter."  
Rebecca's little arms fastened around a crouching Belle's neck. "Thank you for looking after me, Mrs. Jordan. I'm sorry if I've been naughty, I don't mean to be."  
Belle pulled back and smiled into the child's face, smoothing the collar of her dress. "You're not naughty, you just get over-excited. Now, you be a good girl until your mama gets here tomorrow, and you tell her we're really sorry to have missed her."  
Rebecca nodded gravely. "I will." The brief, sober demeanor dissipated almost instantly. "I'm going to see the sea. Have you ever seen it?"  
"I can't say I have, Becky." Belle stood. "You must tell me all about it when you write."  
Beth stooped to cuddle the child "Oh, I'm going to miss you! You have a lovely trip, and I want to hear it all. I'll be thinking of you."  
Rebecca nodded gravely. "Thank you for reading to me. You're getting better. I expect you needed to practice the voices for when you get married and have your own children? I do hope I could help."  
The adults exchanged an amused glance, used to the child's insightful, but tactless, observations. Her mind operated like quicksilver, but she lacked the maturity to operate any kind of filter.  
"Thank you, Becky," Beth replied, choking back her laughter. "You've certainly taught me a lot."  
The group clattered over to the train, stowed their baggage and claimed seats before taking up waving positions by the windows. Whistles trilled and shrieked through the shouts of the station staff and great, billowing puffs of steam.  
"Bye, Mayzee," yelled Beth. "Bye, Henry!"  
"Bye!" J.J. yelled, his indignity quickly forgotten.  
The train chugged out into the countryside, and Belle arranged her family in their seats, complete with reading material to make the journey more interesting, but .J.J. had decided to add an extra layer of challenge by using his magnifying glass. "Do ya think we'll get held up by outlaws?" he asked, hopefully.  
His mother's brow wrinkled. "Goodness me, no. I sincerely hope not."  
"Shame," the boy muttered. "I never get to meet anyone interesting."  
Sheriff Jacobs and the Kid exchanged a smile at the sight of Heyes' doleful eyes staring aimlessly out of the train window.  
"She'll be back soon, Heyes. A few weeks at the most." The Kid tossed a newspaper over to his cousin. "Here have a read; that usually cheers you up."  
Heyes shook his head.  
The blue eyes flickered with concern. "I bought a 'National Geographic' too. D'ya fancy that instead? There's an article about how horses run. It's more interestin' than you'd think."  
Heyes flicked a disinterested glance at the magazine. "I know how they run. They put one hoof in front of the other – the faster they do that, the quicker they go."  
"Yeah, but look," the Kid held up the page. "They've broken it down in a series of photographs. In this one all the feet are off the ground. Ya'd think it'd fall over, but it doesn't." The Kid frowned. "You usually eat this kind of stuff up. What's up?"  
"Abi won't be back unless we can sort my parole." Heyes heaved a huge sigh. "She can't bring Anya here to risk one of Joan Baines' accidents."  
The Kid's jaw dropped open. "No! We'll sort something, it can't be that bad."  
Heyes shook his head. "It is. Abi listened in on a device, and she heard them saying they'd find another way, but she didn't hear was how exactly they planned to do it. Right now they think Anya's been taken out of the country, but if she appears in Brookswood they'll know that's not true."  
"Surely we need to keep thing in perspective here, Heyes. If there's anything like a pot shot or stray bullet we'll be back on Joan Baines like grease on bacon." Sheriff Jacobs folded his arms. "Accidents are hard to arrange, and you can't predict the outcome. I'd just be careful of strangers, although I understand your caution where a little girl's concerned."  
Heyes turned intense, dark eyes on the lawman. "Anya is our youngest daughter. Our eldest was murdered in her pram while we walked with her in the park. I'll never forget that day; her smashed body and Abi splattered in her own baby's blood." Heyes watched his words land with Jacobs. "And that was the second baby she lost. She's a widow, and lost the son she carried from her late husband. She couldn't handle losing Anya, and I won't allow even the slightest risk. My blood ran cold when Mitchell threatened her. I now truly understand why Abi sent me away before. It's more than I could bear."  
"So she's being extra cautious." Jacobs spoke carefully, understanding the angst behind Heyes' words. "Once she's had time to think about it she'll see things in a brighter light, I'm sure of it. Women are very emotional creatures - they sometimes need a steady hand to show them the way."  
The Kid cleared his throat. "Not Abi, Sheriff. She's a deep thinker and real clever. She'll have measured the risk."  
"She's an ex-Pinkerton and can put things in perspective," Heyes added. "She's done things that'd make most men's hair curl. She's assessed the danger, and if she says it's a real threat I believe her." Heyes turned to the Kid. "She wanted me to make sure you understood that too. She thinks you and Beth should move away."  
The Kid bit into his lip. "I couldn't take anything happening to Beth, not after last time."  
Heyes nodded. "I know. That's how I feel about Anya. Abi's real sure nothing will happen before the men's trial, so I'd relax and enjoy the wedding, but bringing a child into it's another thing entirely."  
"So the engagement's off?" Jacob's asked.  
"No, I want to marry her." Heyes returned to gazing out of the window. "It all depends on the Governor. It's a damned mess. Adults can decide to take the risk, but children? You can't watch them all the time; and I can't put Abi through that again. If we can't hide from Joan Baines, we have to call it quits. We agreed."  
The Kid frowned. "Ain't you gonna fight for her, Heyes? You've waited ten years for this."  
"Fight?" Heyes replied, wearily. "Ask her to take even the smallest risk with her third child? What kind of man would fight for that? No, it's in the hands of the Governor. I can only hope to God he does the right thing."

 

J.J ran at the wagon as it drew to a halt outside the Double J, hurtling into the Kid like a barrel. "You're back! Momma, they're here!"  
"Yup," the Kid laughed, holding the boy aloft. "Look at you - I swear you've grown since we saw you at Christmas."  
"I sure have, Momma had to let my trousers down."  
"Come here," Heyes gave J.J. a manly hug looking over to the house where a smiling Belle stood on the porch wiping her hands on her apron. "Let's get in, huh?"  
"Momma's making a big dinner. We're havin' a ham."  
"Well, that sounds mighty fine." Beth and the Kid stared into one another's eyes, smiles spreading over their faces.  
"Welcome back, Jed," Beth whispered, draping her arms around his neck. "It's all over. We can plan our wedding." Whether her lover was listening or not wasn't clear – he had already moved in for a long, deep kiss.  
"Joshua," Belle's face sparkled with delight. "Welcome home."  
Heyes felt a slight tingling, remember the first time she had said those words to him and how deeply he had been effected by them. The bear hug lifted her off her feet. He dropped her back down, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Look at you! It already seems like home again, the place feels like you've never been away. Maybe it's because there's no smell of stew."  
Jesse slipped an arm around his wife's waist. "It does, doesn't it? It's great to have everyone home again. The heart went out of the Double J for a bit there. We need to make sure that never happens again." He drew Belle to him. "A house only becomes a home when there's love in it."  
Heyes cheeks dimpled. "Yeah, Jesse and I get on well enough, but it just wasn't the same without you."  
"Oh, Joshua," Beth disentangled herself from her fiancé's grip and bustled over to Heyes. "Congratulations! You and Abi make a lovely couple." She embraced him excitedly. "I'm so happy for you. When's the big day?"  
Heyes' eyes darkened. "We haven't set a date yet, Beth. We've got a lot to arrange before we can do that."  
Beth linked an arm through Heyes', extending the other to the Kid to take. "Yes, she's having a break by the sea. Becky told us about it," she led the men to the door. "Is she coming here afterwards?"  
Heyes stepped to the side to allow her to enter. "She's going back to Topeka to pack. She needs to sell her house."  
"Oh, of course!" Beth smiled happily. "It's so exciting, isn't it? You're getting married and you're going to be a real family. Isn't it marvelous? What a shame you couldn't go with them to the seaside, but that'll give Abi time to tell Anya who you really are, won't it?"  
A pair of concerned blue eyes flicked over to his partner. It was time to change the subject. "Did J.J. say there was a ham cookin'?"  
Jesse chuckled lightly. "There sure is, and there's peach cobbler to follow."  
They strolled into the kitchen, the Kid sniffing the air appreciatively. "I can't wait. I'm starvin'."  
"Then get yourselves washed and sit down at the table," smiled Belle. "I knew you'd be ready to eat after that journey, so I made sure it was ready. I couldn't bear the thought of trying to get the dinner out with Jed prowling around me like a hungry lion, and it doesn't seem like a good welcome home to chase him away with a wooden spoon like I usually do."  
"Belle, that's what you've done for years, and I can't think of anything better than normal – bein' surrounded by all the good folks I love. If that comes with rapped knuckles, who cares?" He hugged Belle and Beth to him, "that's a small price to pay for bein' home again."  
"Very good supper, Belle." Heyes gave his thanks as he sat back with a contented sigh. "It's nice to know that some things don't change."  
"Well Joshua, thank you." Belle smiled quietly with pleasure. "It's also nice to see you eating more. For a while there we were afraid you were simply going to blow away with the first spring storm of the season." Her smile deepened as she gazed at him. "You're looking so much better than you did when you first came home to us."  
Heyes grinned a little self-consciously. "Your cooking has a lot to do with that. I swear even in prison, it was your cookies that kept me going sometimes. They were very good and I appreciated getting them."  
"Good!" She said with emphasis. "Well, shall I put some coffee on?"  
"That would be nice." Jesse agreed while the other two gentlemen nodded their affirmation.  
"Fine." And she sent a knowing smile over to Heyes as she pushed herself away from the table. "I even have some cookies for dessert!"  
"I don't want coffee or cookies!" Jay announced. "Can I be excused please?  
Belle looked back at her son with some surprise. "You don't want cookies!?" She exclaimed. "Who are you and what have you done to the little boy who lives here?"  
Jay giggled into his hand. "It's me Momma!" He insisted. "I'm just full—I don't want any cookies! Can I go finish my drawing?"  
"Ohh!" Jesse nodded in sudden understanding. "You have a project you're working on, is that it?"  
"Yes!"  
Jesse and Belle exchanged smiles. "Alright." Belle gave her permission. "You may be excused. I'll come and help you with your bath after we have our coffee."  
Jay made a face but then jumped down from his chair and headed upstairs to his room to carry on with his project.  
"Never known the little man to turn down cookies!" Jed commented. "What's he up to?"  
"I believe he's working on a drawing for Becky." Belle explained. "He wants to get it done before they get back from their holiday."  
Heyes smiled and nodded. "Oh. Well I'm sure Becky will be very pleased with that."  
"Yes." Belle agreed as she and Beth made their way into the kitchen to prepare coffee.  
Jesse glanced over at Heyes, having picked up on something in his tone that sent warning bells off in his mind.  
"What was that all about?" he enquired quietly. "Are they not coming back?"  
"I'm not sure Jesse," Heyes admitted. "Let's just wait and see."  
Jesse sighed. "You two sure do things the hard way," he observed and Jed snorted. Both Heyes and Jesse looked over at him.  
"Oh, sorry," Jed apologized. "That just struck me as an understatement!"  
Coffee and cookies soon put in an appearance, and just as quickly disappeared again.  
"Ahg...now I'm really stuffed." Heyes complained. "Those cookies are even better when they're fresh baked!"  
"Jeez Heyes!" Kid teased him. "Never thought I'd see the day when you'd be eatin' too much! Ya makin' up for lost time?"  
"Sure, why not."  
Beth giggled and pushed herself away from the table, taking dishes as she went. "I'll get started on these while you get Jay ready for bed Momma." She offered. "Then perhaps we can all sit and relax a little bit!"  
"Good idea!" Belle agreed. "Let's get to it!"  
"Ah, Beth! I'll give ya' a hand with those." Jed quickly offered as he stood up and began to put action to his words. "There's something I want to talk to ya' about."  
Beth smiled. "Okay. Thank you."  
Jesse and Heyes shared a look and Jesse poured them both a re-fill.  
Inside the kitchen Beth quickly took control of the operation and got everything organized. She threw Jed a towel and he accepted his role as dish-dryer with a smile.  
"What did you want to talk about?" Beth asked with just a touch of apprehension as she pumped water into the sink.  
"Well," Jed turned serious. "I just wanted to be sure, after all that has gone on and everythin' that you've seen, I wanted to be sure that you still wanna get married."  
Beth stopped what she was doing and sent a worried look up at him. "What do you mean?" she asked quietly. "Are you having doubts?"  
"I was," Jed admitted, and Beth felt a shiver of fear go through her. "Then Heyes informed me of something that I think you need to be aware of before we make that commitment. Once you know what Abi found out you may not want to take the risk with me."  
Beth absently placed dishes in the sink, not even aware of what she was doing. She felt like she wanted to cry. Was Jed backing out on her?  
"What could Abi possibly have found out that could change my mind?" she asked quiet as a mouse.  
"Well," Jed began. "apparently, even though Mrs. Baines agreed officially to stop her vendetta against us, Abi had reason to doubt her sincerity. She confronted Mrs. Baines and accused her of such. Mrs. Baines finally admitted that it wasn't over, that accidents happen and that me and Heyes and anyone connected to us will never really be safe."  
Beth stopped what she was doing and turned to her lover. She came to him and in an instant, Jed had wrapped his arms around her and he held her in a loving embrace. He kissed her on the top of her head and took in the fresh scent of her hair and knew for sure then how much he cared for her and how much he wanted her in his life. And he felt fear for her and fear for the safety of their children.  
"You need to know Beth," he whispered to her. "If you marry me, we might have to leave here. We might have to disappear."  
He felt her tremble and she looked up at him with brown eyes that were misting over with threatening tears.  
"I love you," she declared softly. "It would break my heart to have to leave Mama and Papa—to leave Jay and the ranch. But I love you more and if we have to leave, I will follow you anywhere."  
Jed cupped her face in both his hands. "Beth, darlin'; are you sure? This could go on for years. Our children could be at risk. Even Heyes and Abi aren't sure what they are going to do now because of this. It could be dangerous."  
"I can't let what might happen destroy us," she told him. "If there is anything I've learned, it's that anything is possible. You could get influenza and die from fever, or a fall from a horse. I could die in child-birth..." Jed cringed at that thought. "...but we can't let what 'might' happen stop us from moving forward because those awful things might 'not' happen and think of all the wonderful things we could be missing out on!" She smiled a little sadly then and her right hand came up and caressed his forehead. "Don't think I didn't notice this injury here," she reprimanded him softly and Jed smiled a little abashedly. "I realize I need to prepare myself for such happenings and I can only hope that when you're ready to, you will tell me what happened. Just know that I love you and I will support you in any decision that you make."  
Jed smiled and kissed her on the lips. She threw her arms around his neck and returned the kiss whole-heartedly.  
"Oh darlin'..." he said as he hugged her to him. "I knew there was a reason I fell in love with you."  
"Are we good now?" she asked hopefully. "Do you still want to do this?"  
"Yes Beth. With all my heart," he assured her. "More than ever, with all my heart."

"Well that's J.J put down for the night," Belle took a seat with a profound sigh of relief. "Back in our own beds again."  
"Amen to that," Jesse grinned, handing his wife a glass of sherry.  
"Really?" Belle's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Alcohol?"  
"Sure. This is a celebration," Jesse nodded. "We're all together again." His eyes drifted to Beth as she entered the room. "All the dishes done?"  
"Yes, and the kitchen's cleaned up," Beth giggled, "despite Jed's 'help.'"  
"Hey," the Kid sat contentedly, stretching out his long legs in front of him. "It's not my area of expertise. His eyes caught the glass of brandy proffered by Jesse with a gleam of surprise. "Thanks, we're celebratin'?"  
"We sure are." Jesse took his favourite chair. "We've got to make arrangements for this wedding. It's gone on far too long now. I want to play with my grandchildren before I'm too old to bend down. How about we all head into town and book the date tomorrow?"  
Beth and Jed shared a look, unable to contain the smiles twitching at their lips. "Tomorrow? That sounds great to me."  
Jesse rubbed his hands with glee. "Then tomorrow it is. I guess we also need a shopping trip to get stocked up for a family home again."  
Beth's eyes glowed. "Oh, mama, there's a new hat shop in town. I saw it yesterday. Can we go? I need a new hat for my going away outfit."  
The Kid's brow furrowed. "Going away?"  
"Yes, my outfit for us to go on honeymoon. I simply must have a new one for when everyone sees us off."  
"Yeah, I guess." The Kid looked confused. "Why? Do I need to do that too?"  
"I must look my best, that's why! It'll be my first whole day as a married woman."  
Belle smiled at her daughter. "Don't worry, Jed, all you need to do is look smart – and yes, Beth, we can go there. I want a new hat too and it looked so interesting."  
"Nobody's gonna be looking at you anyway, Kid," chuckled Heyes. "Not with Beth around."  
"Some of them will be looking at him," Beth beamed proudly and slipped a hand into her fiancé's. "There are a lot of women in this town who'd give their eye teeth to be in my shoes." She flicked a look over to Heyes. "And Abi will find the same thing when she gets back."  
The smile fell from Heyes' face. "Ah, yes." He cleared his throat. "Abi – I need to talk to you all about that."  
Belle sat upright. "What? What's wrong? Have you disagreed with her over something? I'm sure it can be sorted."  
Heyes shook his head sadly. "No Belle, I haven't disagreed with her, it's quite the opposite."  
"You agree? What's the problem?" asked Jesse.  
"I agree that I can't bring Anya here while there's any question of danger to her." Heyes looked around the room. "I need to tell you it's not over. Abi listened in using some kind of spying device and heard Joan Baines say she was going to make sure the campaign continues. She's going to make it look like accidents now." Heyes sighed in the silence. "I'm sorry to put a damper on things, but you need to know."  
Jesse frowned. "Accidents? How dangerous can that be?"  
"Very dangerous," Heyes replied. "Think about it. Nobody can be on guard all the time. They only have to be lucky once, we have to be lucky all the time."  
"So Abi's not coming?" Beth shook her head in confusion. "You're not getting married?"  
"It's not as clear as that. Steven's preparing an appeal to get the parole lifted or varied so that Joan Baines won't be able to keep track of me or anyone I'm with." Heyes' despondent voice was heavy with regret. "If not..."  
"Oh!" Beth's simple exclamation punctuated the silence. "How dangerous is it?"  
"She told me to tell you to move, especially if you want children."  
Beth's doe-like eyes darted between Jed and her father. "What should we do?"  
"Abi also said Joan Baines wouldn't be stupid to try anything while her husband was awaiting trial." Heyes did his best to sound reassuring. "Just be careful, don't go off on your own, make sure J.J. stays where you can see him. There's no need to panic."  
"He's right," Jesse nodded, gravely. "Let's take some time to take stock. If we have to move, we will. My family comes first. Doing anything right now would be really stupid for her."  
Heyes slumped hopelessly. "I'm sorry to bring this to your door, both the Kid and I are. I'll move. I can't have people who've been so kind to me suffering in this way."  
Jesse and Belle exchanged a conversation in a glance. Belle smiled firmly but kindly. "Joshua, you are family, and Jed is going to be the father of our grandchildren. We'll work on this together, but in the meantime we are celebrating our homecoming, and discussing the wedding. I always found it was best to deal with things one at a time. I don't know Abi intimately, but I do know she wouldn't have allowed us to come home if she thought it wasn't safe to be here. We need to be aware and cautious, but I think we can get on with things." Belle stood and walked over to Heyes. "We are going to do everything we can to help you and Abi be a proper family." She patted his arm before sitting beside him on the sofa. "You are not alone, Joshua, you have love and support - hold onto that." She held out her glass. "Jesse, I think we all need refills, this is a special occasion."  
The evening had settled down into a quiet and relaxing mood. Belle and Beth retired to the sitting room where Belle had picked up some darning that needed to be done while Beth busied herself with writing a letter to Sister Julia. The two of them had remained in contact since Beth's little under-cover excursion to the prison and Beth liked to keep her up to date on all the happenings since they'd returned home. Jesse had settled in to reading one of the many books that Heyes had brought back with him and Jed was sitting at the dining table and was just beginning the daily ritual of cleaning his gun.  
Heyes had poured himself a final cup of coffee and came to sit down at the table beside the Kid and to keep him company before they all headed off to bed for the night.  
"You and Beth looked pretty happy this evening." Heyes commented quietly. "Have you put your doubts to rest?"  
"Yeah." Kid nodded. "I donno, Heyes; I suppose it was like you said; I was just feeling rattled because of gettin' shot and all that. I'd had some really strange dreams during that time and it got me thinkin' that my ma wouldn't approve...you know."  
"Yeah." Heyes nodded. "So you don't think that anymore?"  
"Naw." Jed smiled and looked with fondness over towards his betrothed. "I think my ma would really like Beth. Actually I think she'd like this whole family. For the first time since I can remember I feel like I'm doing somethin' that would make my folks proud. That really means a lot."  
Heyes smiled. "Yeah, it does."  
"And then all this stuff that's still goin' on." Kid continued as he started to clean the various disassembled pieces of his hand gun. "Here I was so worried about whether or not I was making the right decision and then all of a sudden I was scared to death that Beth might decide to end things." Jed shook his head. "Man! That was when I really realized just how much I want her in my life and how terrible it would be if she wasn't!"  
"I know what you mean." Heyes mumbled.  
"Yeah, I know ya' do Heyes." Kid assured him. "I hope things will work out for you and Abi. I'm kinda fond of her and Anya too, ya' know. They are two very special ladies."  
Heyes smiled and nodded agreement. "I take it you talked to Beth about the dangers of 'accidents' happening?"  
"Yup." Kid told him. "She's willin'. Even if we have to leave here, she still wants to get married."  
"Good!" Heyes grinned. "Cause I've really been looking forward to being 'best man' at your wedding."  
Jed's expression dropped and he looked embarrassed. "Oh...ah...I kinda asked David to be my best man, Heyes."  
Heyes' grin disappeared in a twinkling and he was surprised at how disappointed he felt. He swallowed down the sudden tightness in his throat and then tried to back-step out of his assumption. "Oh...I...oh..."  
"Well, you were gone for so long Heyes," Jed started to explain. "and David and I got to be real good friends and all...you know how it is..."  
"Well, yeah. I suppose..."  
Jed tried real hard to keep a straight face, but the look of astonished hurt that was coming back at him almost broke his heart and he couldn't keep the pretence up any longer. He snorted and laughed out loud and Heyes looked even more confused.  
"Aw Heyes! Of course you're gonna be my best man!" Kid assured him. "We put our weddin' off all those years just to make sure you'd be here to be best man! C'mon! What are you thinkin!?"  
"Ohh, you bastard!" The curse came out as a breath of relief. "I am going to get you for that!"  
"Ha ha!" Kid laughed whole-heartedly. "Aw Heyes! The look on your face was priceless..."  
"You bastard.”

Steven paced up and down the plushly carpeted hallway. He had a knot in his gut which really was unusual for him over a simple meeting with government officials. He could understand it if he was heading into a trial situation, but this? Present you case and leave. What's so stressful about that?  
'Well', he thought. 'it might be just a matter of presenting the facts and leaving for him, but the out come of this meeting was going to effect the rest of his client's life.' Yes, that could certainly be adding to his stress here; this was an important meeting, and one that he wasn't really too optimistic about in the first place.  
To make things worse; a new governor had been appointed for Wyoming State and Steven didn't know what to expect from Mr. Amos Barber. He was a Republican, just like his predecessor, but as for how he stood on the matter of outlaws and amnesties and parole conditions was anyone's guess. Steven felt like he was going into this meeting blind even though he had done just as much preparation for it as he had for any criminal trial case he was working.  
Steven took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He wished the other people attending this meeting would hurry up and get there so they could get on with this. It was the waiting that could get to him at times, not the doing. Once things got under way he knew he would find his footing and present his case in a professional manner as always—it was just the waiting!  
"Mr. Granger!"  
Steven heard his name being called from down the hall. He stopped in his pacing and turned to face the voice.  
"Oh, Sheriff Jacobs." Steven greeted the lawman and they shook hands. "Glad you made it. I don't think they're quite ready to receive us yet though."  
"What do you expect from the government?" Jacobs commented. "Don't mind letting the 'little' people wait."  
Steven smiled and nodded. "What do you think of our chances here?"  
Jacobs took a deep breath and raised his eyebrows. "Pretty dicey on both counts." He predicted. "Still, we'll give it our best shot."  
Steven nodded again, not sure if he was relieved or disappointed that the Sheriff seconded his opinion. Further conversation was interrupted when a side door to one of the smaller conference rooms was opened and the secretary poked his head out.  
"Mr. Granger? Mr. Jacobs?"  
"Yes."  
"If you gentlemen would please come in and prepare your case. Mr. Barber and Mr. Ludlow will be with you presently."  
"Of course."  
The two men entered into the small room and found themselves facing a large mahogany desk with four comfortable chairs situated around it. There was a serving table set to the side with china cups and saucers along with a carafe which was presumably filled with coffee. This presumption was validated after the two gentlemen settled into the chairs and the secretary offered them each a cup.  
These were accepted with the appropriate condiments and the secretary made a discreet exit. Steven and Jacobs sat quietly, sipping their coffee's and staring at each other. This was awkward. Both men were nervous and sitting and waiting was worse than actually pacing and waiting. Let's just get this over with!  
Finally the two government officials put in an appearance. Actually their imminent arrival was preceded by their voices and some laughter at a joke before the gentlemen themselves entered the office and greeted the two men who were already there.  
Steven and Jacobs were on their feet instantly, preparing for introductions. The secretary did not disappoint.  
"Mr. Granger, Sheriff Jacobs. Mr. Barber, our state governor and Mr. Ludlow, head of the penal commission and the parole board. Gentlemen, may I pour you some coffee?"  
"Yes! Certainly Higgins!" Barber instructed him. "Coffee all around."  
"Yessir."  
Higgins did his duty and after preparing the two new coffee's and replenishing the first two, he again discreetly made his exit.  
"So, Mr. Granger." Barber began as he and Ludlow settled in themselves. "I understand that you and Mr. Jacobs have a couple of proposals to present here today."  
"Yes sir, Mr. Barber." Steven agreed. "We would like to begin with the case of Hannibal Heyes."  
"Yes." Barber mumbled with a bit of a frown. "Mr. Warren made some comment concerning that particular gentleman. Seemed to think it was a bit of a joke that I would be stepping in to take over just after Mr. Heyes had been granted a parole."  
Silence followed this comment. Barber opened up the folder that he had brought in with him and quickly scanned over the information presented to him.  
"Going over Mr. Heyes' files I can understand why Mr. Warren was quite happy to be getting out from under this particular powder keg." The governor continued. "He's very fortunate to have been granted a parole—not quite sure if I would have done that."  
Steven felt his heart sink. Still; chin up—carry on!  
"I believe that Mr. Warren was in agreement that Mr. Heyes was given an unfair sentence and that his treatment while in the custody of the territorial prison more than justified a conditional parole."  
"Yes, yes. I'm sure." Barber waved it aside as he continued to scrutinize the documents in front of him. He eventually sighed and looked up at the young lawyer. "Just refreshing my memory here Mr. Granger. I have studied this case quite thoroughly and the conditions appear to be straight forward. What is it that you wish to alter?"  
"I'm sure you are aware of the cases against Mr. Mitchell and Mr. Baines." Steven began his case. "People who are close to Mr. Heyes and Mr. Curry have been assaulted and there have been murders committed."  
"Yes." Mr. Barber nodded solemnly. "It is an unfortunate situation indeed. But do keep in mind Mr. Granger, that neither Mr. Mitchell nor Mr. Baines have gone to trial as of yet and therefore cannot be assumed guilty of anything. I would say there is a lot more going on here than meets the eye."  
"Exactly my point." Steven agreed. "Even though Mr. Mitchell and Mr. Baines are now in custody and awaiting trial we have become aware of the possibility of a further threat to the victims of these crimes."  
"Indeed?" Barber was dubious. "In what way did you become aware of this?"  
"It was purely by accident, Mr. Barber." Steven blocked him. "One of the Pinkerton agents working the case happened to ove-hear a conversation indicating that the threat was not over yet."  
"Hmm. What does all this have to do with Mr. Heyes and his parole? I would think that he would be safer with the law knowing who he is and where he is. If anyone where to try anything it would be rather obvious."  
"Mr. Heyes has recently become engaged."  
Two sets of eyebrows went up. "Really?" Was Ludlow's first and only comment.  
"Yes." Steven reiterated. "He and Mrs. Abigail Stewart, who helped out a great deal on these cases, have known each other for some years. Indeed they have a child together, a ten year old daughter. They had a previous daughter as well but unfortunately she was murdered by an assailant eleven years ago. That incident of course has left its scars and now with this present threat hanging over them they were hoping to be able to take their daughter out of this situation for her own safety."  
"How far out of the situation?" Mr. Ludlow enquired.  
Steven took a breath and looked the official straight in the eye. "Canada. Possibly even over-seas. Mrs. Stewart is a native of Scotland and I'm sure would feel far more secure in raising her daughter in her homeland."  
"Mr. Heyes is on a very strict parole, Mr. Granger." Mr. Ludlow stated the obvious. "He is not permitted to leave his county without permission and supervision, let alone the continent! Are they proposing a long-distance marriage? Hardly seems appropriate!"  
"No, Mr. Ludlow." Steven jumped in with both feet. "Considering the assistance that Mr. Heyes gave to the authorities while tracking down these suspects, we were hoping that the parole board would consider lifting the restrictions of his parole. He would therefore be free to marry Mrs. Stewart and leave the country with his family. The life and safety of his daughter could depend upon it."  
Both Mr. Ludlow and Mr. Barber sat and stared at the lawyer with mouths gaping. The silence lasted for only a beat of a second but it seemed an eternity to Steven until finally Mr. Barber coughed and shifted a little uncomfortably. He and Mr. Ludlow exchanged dubious looks.  
"It's been barely a year since Mr. Heyes was released from prison." Ludlow finally pointed out. "And now he wishes to be released from his parole as well?"  
"Mr. Heyes wishes to lead a normal life." Steven tried to make it sound reasonable. "He wishes to marry the mother of his child and live in the peace and safety that is taken for granted my most of our citizens. Is that really too much for him to ask?"  
Again the two officials exchanged looks and then Mr. Barber retreated into neutral territory.  
"We will take your request into consideration," the governor responded. "Though I highly doubt that Mr. Heyes will be given permission to simply disappear. The whole point of the parole was to keep him under surveillance until we could feel confident that he was indeed reformed. The report we received concerning his behavior in Joplin hardly fills us with confidence in this matter. Though it might be to our best interests that Mr. Heyes leave the country, it would hardly be the responsible thing to do. What would stop him from simply returning to his previous life-style and become someone else's headache?"  
"His fiancée used to be a Pinkerton herself and is very adamant about helping Mr. Heyes to remain law-abiding." Steven informed them. "I doubt she would tolerate any nonsense from him."  
"Yes, I know that Pinkerton used to employ women." Barber conceded. "But how do we know that Mr. Heyes is being honorable towards her? Perhaps he is simply leading her along to believe that he wishes to marry her and settle down to a family life. Then once he is clear of his obligations to the parole board he may very well simply disappear."  
"I really don't think..."  
"No." Barber cut Steven off. "This is hardly a dilemma, Mr. Granger. To even suggest that after only a year we are to lift the parole and allow Mr. Heyes to simply walk away? The man is lucky he's not still serving out his sentence inside the prison! The answer is 'no.'"  
Steven felt his heart sink but quickly rallied and presented option number two. When you ask for the sky first, then fall back and ask for a few clouds instead. Clouds don't seem quite so outlandish a request after that.  
"Would it be possible then to simply loosen some of the parole restrictions instead?" Steven ventured. "Failing to receive permission to 'disappear' Mr. Heyes was hopeful of being able to open a small detective agency along with his partner. In order to do this however, he would need a certain amount of freedom to travel and associate with the criminal element simply because of the nature of his work."  
Barber and Ludlow again exchanged looks.  
"We may as well lift the parole conditions all together." Barber complained. "And I have already stated that this is not going to happen."  
"He would not be unsupervised." Sheriff Jacobs finally saw his role in this conversation opening up. "I have agreed to continue being responsible for his actions if this is a career he chooses to pursue. He would still be required to inform me and Sheriff Trevors of his whereabouts and the nature of the case he would be working on. It makes things a little more complicated, but do-able."  
Mr Barber snorted. "You are willing to trust Mr. Heyes to that extent Sheriff Jacobs? Are you sure you know what you are getting into?"  
Jacobs smiled. "I've come to know Mr. Heyes and Mr. Curry rather well over this past year and 'yes' I would have to say that I do trust him to that extent. He is serious about turning his life around, Mr. Barber and with the right support I believe he will do it."  
"And I would certainly be willing to give him any legal advice he might need." Steven pointed out. "Personally I believe this is a good idea, otherwise I would not be presenting it to you. Mr. Heyes and Mr. Curry would be naturals at it since they are already very familiar with the criminal mind set. Who better to know how to prevent a bank robbery than a reformed bank robber?"  
"Yes." Barber grumbled under his breath. "I don't know gentlemen; this all sounds very dubious to me. What's to keep Mr. Heyes from simply disappearing into the hills again?"  
"The same thing that keeps him from doing that now." Jacobs pointed out. "The man wants to put his old life behind him. But at the same time he needs a career that can challenge his intellect. We all know what Hannibal Heyes is capable of. Just think what he could accomplish by putting his talents to work for the law instead of against it?"  
Mr. Barber sat back in his comfortable chair and contemplated his options. He glanced over at Mr. Ludlow and that worthy gentlemen shrugged his shoulders most unhelpfully. Finally the governor sat forward again, having made a decision of sorts.  
"I will consider this suggestion gentlemen," he compromised. "Give me a few days to discuss the validity of it with Mr. Ludlow and I will get back to you. But..." and he pointed a finger at the sheriff. "...Mr. Jacobs you will be responsible for this man's behaviour and conduct—do you understand? If he disappears it'll be your hide! Are you sure you are willing to take this on?"  
Jacobs had a moment of hesitation, but then he resolved himself to stay true to the cause and nodded his acquiescence. "Yes, Governor Barber. I'm willing to accept Mr. Heyes' word that he is committed to this."  
Barber shook his head as though in disbelief. "I truly do not understand it." He admitted. "Mr. Heyes proved himself to be anything but trustworthy and reliable at his trial and yet the very people who's trust he had betrayed continued to stand by him. What is it about this man that makes both of you willing to risk your careers on his fidelity?"  
Now it was Steven and Jacob's turn to exchange a look.  
"Perhaps if you were to meet the gentleman in question," Steven suggested. "you might come to a better understanding of his resolve. He went through a very difficult time in prison but feeling that he had lost everything seemed to help clarify his mind as to what was important to him. He can be very tenacious when it comes to getting what he wants."  
"Yes. Or taking what he wants," Barber countered. "Let us not forget that the crime that was most influential in sending him to prison in the first place was pulling a confidence game—a flim-flam. The man is a con artist gentlemen! How do you know he is not simply pulling the wool over your eyes?"  
Steven smiled patiently as though he were trying to explain the basics of arithmetic to a dim-witted child. "As I said, Mr. Barber," the lawyer reiterated. "if you were to meet the man you would realize how important this is to him. All he needs is the opportunity to prove it."  
"Hmm," Barber growled. "Well, we'll see. As I said I will discuss this with Mr. Ludlow and the other members of the penal board and I will get back to you on it."  
"Yes, of course,” Steven accepted that. "Thank you."  
"Now, was there anything else I can do for you gentlemen, while we're at it?"  
Steven and Jacobs exchanged looks again and quite suddenly Governor Barber realized he'd made a mistake in keeping the floor open for more discussion.  
"We have a request concerning William Earl Carlson," Steven ventured.  
"Who?" Barber asked. He glanced over at Ludlow for assistance but was met with only a shrug.  
"Also know are Wheat Carlson," Steven explained. "He ran the Devil's Hole gang after Heyes moved on to other things."  
"Ahh!" Both Barber and Ludlow were now informed.  
"What request could you possibly have concerning a dead man?" Mr. Ludlow asked not unreasonably.  
Again, Steven and Jacobs exchanged a look. Jacobs shrugged his shoulders and nodded. This was going to open up a whole new can of worms, but they'd started now so they might as well finish it.  
"Mr. Carlson is not dead," Steven announced.  
Again, mouths dropped open and the two officials were speechless for an eternity.  
"Well...ahmm...isn't that interesting," Barber finally commented. "You certainly are full of surprises today Mr. Granger. If Mr. Carlson is still alive then he is very much a wanted man." He froze and sent Steven a hard look. "I hope you are not about to inform me that Mr. Heyes has had contact with Mr. Carlson!"  
"No, no!" Steven assured the governor. "Well...not direct contact in any case."  
"And what is that suppose to mean!?" Barber was becoming angry and fed-up. "What is it with you lawyers! You're always talking in circles! Why can't you just come out and say what you mean!?"  
Steven gave a little bit of a smile. "I mean just that Governor. Hannibal Heyes himself did not have direct contact with Wheat Carlson. He was however aware of the man's continued existence and Mr. Curry and myself hired Mr. Carlson and Mr. Murtry to assist in tracking down Carl Harris.  
"Although admittedly we did not know he was Carl Harris until we actually had the man in custody. We thought we were looking for someone named 'Mitch' and we had two separate parties searching for what turned out to be the one man.  
"At this point I would like to emphasize how diligent Mr. Carlson and Mr. Murtry were in their efforts to find Harris. They remained on his trail for months and even when the trail had turned cold they proved themselves to be quite tenacious in their pursuit. Indeed I am certain that we would not have found Mr. Harris as quickly as we did if it hadn't been for their diligence."  
"You just said it took them months." Ludlow reminded him.  
"I realize that," Steven commented. "It could easily have taken longer. Indeed, we might never have tracked him down if it were not for the unique abilities shown by Carlson and Murtry."  
Barber sighed heavily. He knew this was going somewhere and just wished the lawyer would hurry up and get to the point!  
"What unique abilities are those, Mr. Granger?"  
"Well, their experience as outlaws," Steven pointed out, as though it should be obvious. "Carlson and Murtry were able to infiltrate outlaw hide-outs and gather information about Harris that an official lawman would never have been able to get close to. The very fact that these two gentlemen were once outlaws themselves allowed then access to people and places and information that we would otherwise never have come into our hands.  
"As I said; it was mainly due to their diligence that Mr. Harris was eventually tracked down and re-captured and I think it would be foolish of us not to utilize their special talents."  
"Utilize their special talents!?" Barber repeated. "THEY'RE OUTLAWS!"  
"Well, Mr. Carlson is still an outlaw, yes. But Mr. Murtry has served his time. He is a free man."  
"If Mr. Murtry has rejoined his partner in crime I think it is an easy bet that he has also returned to that life-stye." Ludlow mumbled distainly. "It was my understanding that Mr. Murtry was offered a job out at the Double J ranch and had agreed to take it in order to secure his own release, then disappeared. What does that tell you?"  
"That is when Mr. Curry and myself hired Mr. Murtry to go find his partner and get on the trail of Carl Harris." Steven pointed out. "He did not return to his life of crime, Mr. Ludlow. He was employed as an undercover agent."  
Both Mr. Ludlow and Mr. Barber snorted their laughter.  
"This meeting is becoming more and more ridiculous as it goes along," Barber observed. "An undercover agent? Carlson and Murtry? Next you're going to be asking for Carlson to receive an amnesty so that he and his partner can work as 'undercover agents' for Heyes and Curry's new detective agency!"  
Both Steven and Jacobs responded with dead pan expressions. Barber stopped his incredulous snickering and looked at the two men with yet another dropped jaw countenance.  
"Oh gentlemen, please! You must be joking!" The governor was practically pleading with them. "Give Wheat Carlson an amnesty—after what he did!?"  
"I realize the situation is extreme," Steven began and both officials snorted. "but it makes sense if you take a moment to think about it. These two gentlemen showed their worth in tracking down Mr. Harris. Official lawmen would not have been able to do it.  
"You give Wheat Carlson an amnesty but don't let it be known to the general public and he would have access to any number of outlaw hideouts. He and Mr. Murtry would work for Heyes and Curry and Sheriff Jacobs has agreed to over-see the whole lot. They would all still be accountable to him—well, not Murtry or Curry of course, but Heyes and Carlson. Lom Trevors has also indicated a willingness to participate, as well as Jesse Jordan and Warden Reece. All we need, governor, is your approval."  
"Do you really think that Carlson will turn on his own kind at this point?" Ludlow asked incredulously. "As a matter of fact they all have connections to the criminal element. The whole idea behind Heyes' parole is to keep him away from those influences!"  
"I agree," Steven conceded. "They would not be willing to track down and betray their own kind. But there are many other forms of criminal activity that they could have dealings with. Heyes understands gambling and the confidence game so who better to be safe-guarding against those who would take advantage? Mr. Curry and Mr. Heyes both understand the way banks are laid out and Heyes would certainly know if a safe was safe or not. Curry understand security and he is very good at reading people. Carlson and Murtry have already shown their worth as infiltrators and they would be above suspicion.  
"These men are not fools gentlemen. If they are willing to bring their talents onto our side of the table then we would be the fools if we did not consider the possibilities. If you are not willing to lift the conditions of Mr. Heyes' parole completely, then at least lift them enough that he may get on with some kind of life. He is far too valuable an asset to keep pinned down and suffocating under the weight of restrictions that are truly unwarranted."  
The two officials sat back and scrutinized the lawyer. They still couldn't quite believe what they were hearing—and even more; that they continued to sit and listen to it.  
Finally Mr. Ludlow shifted and gave a small cough as though needing to loosen up his throat so he could speak.  
"I would have to discuss this with the other members of the board before making any kind of decision on this matter." He prolonged. "It was risky enough simply allowing Hannibal Heyes out of prison which is why the conditions of his parole were so strict in the first place. Now, after only a year you wish us to lift those restrictions? I hardly think that wise."  
"Not lift them altogether Mr. Ludlow." Steven pointed out. "Simply loosen them up a little bit. Give the man room to breathe."  
"Hmm."  
"We will consider your suggestions Mr. Granger." Barber stepped in quickly. "In the mean time Mr. Heyes will continue to respect the conditions of his parole as they were initially laid out to him. As for Mr. Carlson receiving an amnesty, if we agree to allow Mr. Heyes the freedom to open up a detective agency then Mr Carlson will be granted a conditional amnesty to be a part of that—if he is willing to be a part of that. If he strays from the path at all gentlemen, then he will be tracked down and tried for his crimes."  
"Of course," Steven agreed. "He is willing to come in under these conditions."  
"And you're willing to vouch for him?" Ludlow asked Jacobs with a touch of incredulity.  
"Yes," Jacobs agreed, though again he was wondering what in the world he was getting himself into.  
"Alright gentlemen," Barber brought the meeting to a close. "We will be in touch. Good day to you."  
Steven and Jacobs left the office to the accompaniment of Mr. Ludlow's stage whisper to his superior; "Now all we have to do is convince Marshall Morrison that this is a good idea!"

 

Belle's eyes glowed with pride. The brand-new colour, 'electric blue,' was the height of fashion, and it favoured her daughter's colouring perfectly. She would not only be a beautiful bride, but she would have a wonderful outfit to start her new life as a married woman.  
"Now, let me show you this." Mrs. Oliphant's bright-blue eyes sparkled as she warmed to her subject. "I only opened last week, so I haven't fully stocked yet, but this catalogue will give you a good idea of what I can offer. I can definitely match your dress." She spread the magazine in front of the customers. "As you can see the 'chapeau de jour' is more ornate than last year's counterpart. Feathers, ribbons, birds- even rosettes and diamante are all clustered together to make for an extravaganza of color and ornamentation; some are even placed under the brim. They are a flamboyant declaration of womanhood – perfect for the confident young woman. I haven't done one in electric-blue yet, but I've been itching to. Yours would be the first. Look, I dyed these feathers in anticipation. Oh, this will be such a beautiful hat!"  
Beth's eyes followed the feathers as though mesmerized. "Oh, mama, look at them! We've never had anything like it in Brookswood before."  
Belle smiled at the milliner. "She's right; these are the kind of things we expect to find in the big city. It's not what we're used to here."  
Mrs. Oliphant smiled knowingly. "Exactly! I have no competition. Ladies are very deft with a needle, but millinery is a skill beyond the most. All ladies love a new hat, and I also offer a service which the big cities don't. I can update a treasured hat for you, at a fraction of the cost of new – a curl of the brim here, new trimming there – I think I can offer something nobody else is doing in the area, with prices to fit any pocket."  
"It certainly sounds like it," smiled Belle. "I expect you will have quite a lot of business coming your way too, my daughter is getting married and we just set the date today. We anticipate a lot of guests, and many will want to look their best."  
Mrs. Oliphant clasped her hands in delight. "A bride? How wonderful, and just the thing to get my business off to a good start. I'm a widow, you see, and I started up after my poor Harold's demise. This really matters to me. Many women have to work after bereavement, but I'm very lucky to have something I love to fall back on. "  
"Oh, I'm so sorry," Belle nodded sympathetically at the pretty, young woman. "A widow at your age? Tragic."  
"Harold was taken by the grippe. It went to his lungs and he simply never recovered. I could have stayed in Chicago, but it has so many sad memories – not to mention far too many hat shops." Mrs. Oliphant swallowed down her swirling emotions. "Neither of us had family to keep us there either, so I decided to take the bull by the horns and head West. There are so many opportunities for someone prepared to work hard."  
Beth looked at her mother sadly. "You are sure to be made very welcome, Mrs. Oliphant. I think you've done your research, and you are right, this is a growing town. I think you will do well here."  
"Well, if you are about to bring lots of business to my door, I'll tell you what I can do. I will make a bespoke hat for you and your mother at half price, if you tell all your friends and guests to come to me for their hats. How does that sound?"  
Belle and Beth exchanged a look of glee. "That sounds marvelous. You've got a deal."  
"Then take a look at the catalogue and select a shape and we'll go through the trimmings together." Mrs. Oliphant headed for the door to the back of the shop. "I'll put the kettle on. If there's one thing you'll learn about me; I love my tea. I believe it helps you get over all kinds of things, and I use different blends for varying uses, and it certainly sustained me through bad times. Now, we want a stimulating blend for creativity." She pursed her lips pensively. "Earl Grey, I think. Ladies? You will join me in a cup, won't you?"  
The bell above the door jangled, announcing the arrival of the dimpled smile of Hannibal Heyes. He arched his brows in question, gesturing to his partner who could be clearly seen standing with his back towards the display window. "He wants to know if he can come in; or is it a 'you can't see the dress before the wedding' deal?"  
"It's a hat shop. There are no dresses," giggled Beth. "Besides, it's only the wedding dress he can't see. Everything else is fine. Tell him to come in, I want his opinion."  
Heyes nodded and swung his head back outside. "It's fine, and she wants to know what you think about a hat."  
The Kid turned and followed Heyes inside. "Did you find anything?" The Kid pulled out a bow-backed chair and sat down beside his wife-to-be. "My suit's bein' made. I've chosen a grey Worsted."  
"Grey?" Beth beamed at her mother. "I've chosen an electric-blue fabric for my new dress; you could match that with your tie."  
The Kid looked doubtfully at his partner. "Electric-blue? I ain't sure about that, darlin'. That's a bit loud for a tie."  
"It's a bit bright for a man, Beth." Belle nodded in agreement to the partners, watching the Kid puff at a vase of feathers which seemed annoyingly drawn to his face.  
"I think he'd suit it, it'd bring out his eyes," Beth pouted.  
"Blue is a great idea with grey." All eyes turned to Mrs. Oliphant who suddenly appeared near the door of the back-shop, "but how about a darker; but complimentary hue - very sophisticated, to have a color from the same palette, but to have them harmonize."  
Heyes and Curry stood gallantly. "Sorry, I didn't see anyone come in."  
Mrs. Oliphant gestured for the men to seat with a delicate hand. "Please, take a seat, gentlemen." She walked over to a drawer and pulled out swatches of ribbon. "I was thinking something along these lines." She held up a steel blue alongside Beth's swatch. "You see? They go so well together, yours in the feminine end of the sphere, while this is manly and elegant. What do you think?"  
All eyes turned to Beth, the Kid's relief being almost palpable when her face spilt into a smile. "What do I think? It's lovely. You're right. Complimentary colors are so much better."  
Mrs. Oliphant snipped off a piece of ribbon. "Give this to your tailor so he can match the colour."  
The Kid nodded. "I sure will. Ma'am." What do I owe you for the ribbon?"  
"Owe?" Mrs. Oliphant patted the Kid's arm. "Absolutely nothing. It's my pleasure."  
"Oh, let me introduce you," Beth gestured towards the milliner. "This is Mrs. Oliphant, she's just moved here from..."  
"Chicago," the woman volunteered, helpfully.  
"This is my fiancé, Jed Curry, and his cousin, Hannibal Heyes. This is Mrs. Oliphant."  
Mrs. Oliphant's eyes widened to circles echoed by the little round mouth. "Oh!"  
The partners exchanged a glance. "Ma'am, we've been straight for a very long time," the Kid murmured reassuringly.  
Her deep-blue eyes darted from one to the other before she smiled tentatively. "I'm so sorry; I didn't mean to be rude. I've never met any outlaws before."  
"Ex-outlaws, ma'am," corrected Heyes. "We're not here to rob you."  
Her alabaster skin flushed. "Of course, I doubt even the most desperate criminals would seek out a barely-stocked hat shop to raid, unless they were in need of ostrich feathers. If only there was some kind of etiquette for a situation like this. It's not just that - you're so famous. I just wasn't prepared."  
Heyes grin widened. "I think the word is infamous, Mrs. Oliphant."  
"I do believe you are right, Mr. Heyes," chuckled the milliner. "Can we start again? My name is Amelia, but my friends call me Amy." Her eyes warmed. "Welcome to my little shop and it's really nice to meet you. It will be my pleasure to help with all your hat related needs." She paused. "Well, not the men's hats - just the ladies; unless you want a feather in your cap – not that you wear caps." She started to laugh nervously and slumped down into a chair. "You see? This is why I couldn't open a shop in the big city! I'm technically as good as the best and better than just about anyone, but put me around famous people and I turn into some kind of clown. You should have seen me the day Ellen Terry walked into the shop I trained in. I babbled like an idiot and bumped into things like a puppet with the strings cut."  
The shop rang with laughter. "Mrs. Oliphant, I don't think you need to worry about that in Brookswood," Belle chuckled. "They're the only famous people I've ever met in my life, and trust me – all men start to look ordinary when you wash their underwear – even a pair as handsome as these."  
"Mama!" Beth exclaimed.  
"Mrs. Oliphant is clearly a down-to-earth woman, and as a widow she is perfectly used to the practicalities of domestic life," Belle replied.  
"Indeed I am, and thank you for trying to help."  
"A widow, ma'am?" Heyes smiled sympathetically. "It's a brave move to come all the way out here on your own. Do you have family in the area?"  
"No," Amy shook her head. "I have little in the way of family other than a couple of great aunts, and I can't say I really know them. I simply moved to a growing town without a milliner. It's a chance, but it would appear I've hit lucky as there's a wedding coming up."  
"There sure is, ma'am." The Kid grinned proudly. "The first of May."  
Amy smiled engagingly. "Well, it would be my pleasure to help the wedding party look as smart as possible. I believe your fiancé was going to show you what she is going to have made? How about some nice calming tea while you look?" She shrugged. "I could do with some, even if nobody else could."  
"That would be real hospitable, ma'am," Heyes replied.  
The young woman blushed. "Please, call me Amy. All my friends do. I hope you will introduce me to your wife as such."  
Heyes folded his arms. "I'm not married, Amy. Not yet, anyway. Maybe soon - if things work out."  
Amy arched a brow. "Well, I'm sure things will – a handsome man like you? She'd be mad to let you go. I do hope I can get involved in your wedding too - whoever she may be."  
The Kid glimmered meaningfully at Heyes. Was she flirting or not?  
Amy lowered her head coyly looking through her long lashes. "I'll go get that tea."

Jed Curry was strolling down the boardwalk having just returned from running some errands for Jesse when he spied Sheriff Jacobs coming towards him with a woe-begone expression on his face. Jed stopped and watched him coming, knowing that somehow this had something to do with him.  
"Hey Jed, how're ya' doing?"  
Jed turned suspicious. "Fine," he commented with creased brows. "What's up Sheriff?"  
"Ah, I think you need to see your partner," Jacobs told him. "He's over in the saloon causing a bit of a problem."  
Jed's brow creased even further. "Heyes is causing a problem? What's that all about?"  
"Well," Jacobs looked a little sheepish. "he didn't get quite the answer he was hoping for from the governor. He's taking it kinda hard."  
Jed's shoulders slumped. "Oh," he mumbled. "Dammit!" came out as a breath of disappointment. He sighed heavily and then nodded. "Yeah, okay Sheriff. I'll look after it. Thanks."  
Jacobs nodded. "Good." Then he tried to brighten things up a bit. "It's not all bad, just—not all that he wanted."  
Jed nodded his understanding and headed over to the saloon. He could hear Heyes' high-pitched meanderings even before he pushed through the bat-wing doors and then he just stood there with slumped shoulders as he surveyed the scene. Heyes was standing, or more appropriately; slouched over by the bar. There was a whiskey bottle in front of him and he had a shot glass and a gal keeping each hand occupied. He was arguing with Bill.  
"C'mon Heyes!" Bill was obviously repeating. "Why don't ya' go on home and sleep it off? Or even better; just leave my saloon—I don't give a damn where you sleep it off!"  
"Fuck you!" Heyes snapped back and Kid raised his brows in surprise; it wasn't like Heyes to use obscenities like that.  
But then Kid remembered the last time Heyes and Abi had split up and Heyes' over-riding emotion that time had been anger—escalated to rage by the alcohol he had consumed. Heyes had been looking for a fight with anybody, even the walls and the furniture hadn't escaped his wrath! All the fellas in the gang had stayed away from him, knowing how vicious he could be when he mixed anger with drink!  
"Hey!" Bill bristled, never having experienced Hannibal Heyes at his meanest. "I know you've had some bad news, but I don't need to put up with that in my own place!" He motioned over to Robbie who was a bit slow-witted but quite capable of throwing most fellas out on their butts.  
Heyes' level of inebriation was apparent in the fact that he didn't notice the summons. "Yeah...well yu' can take this place an' shove it right..."  
"Heyes!"  
"Ehhh! Kid..."  
"Aww Heyes, you're drunk."  
"You betcha'!"  
"Thank goodness..." Bill mumbled as he motioned Robbie to stand down. Robbie looked disappointed; he would have loved to throw Hannibal Heyes out of the establishment. "He's your problem now Curry. Get him outta here, will ya'?"  
"Yeah, yeah," Jed assured the barkeeper. "I'll take care of him."  
"I wouldn't mind getting out from under as well Jed," Suzie mumbled as Heyes' full weight threatened to buckle her knees. "Generally I wouldn't mind at all to have Hannibal come callin', but there's only so much a gal can take."  
Jed nodded and took hold of the arm that wasn't wrapped around Suzie.  
"C'mon Heyes," he said as he relieved his partner of his shot glass. "Let's get you out into the fresh air, alright."  
"Hey...whatcha doin'!?"  
"Walkin' ya' outa here before ya' get throwd out."  
"NO! C'mon! Me and Suzie was just gettin' started!" Heyes protested, his aggrieved tone rising in pitch.  
Suzie met Jed's eyes and she gave a sigh of relief as he took over as support. She gave Heyes a friendly smile and a pat on the arm.  
"That's alright sweetie. I'll be seein' ya' another time. Come see me when you're sober, okay?"  
"No...I..."  
"C'mon Heyes." Jed started moving him towards the door. "You're in no fit state anyways. Let Suzie get on with her day."  
"Ahh, women!" Heyes grumbled. "Ya' can't love 'em and ya' can't love 'em."  
"Ah huh."  
Kid nodded to Bill and then half dragged and half carried and reluctant Heyes out to the boardwalk. Heyes cringed as the bright sunshine hit him full in the face and he tried to turn around.  
"I wanna go ba' inside."  
"No, you ain't."  
"C'mon Kid, be a pal..."  
"I am Heyes. Believe me, I am." Jed dragged his partner over to one of the many grassy knolls that were strategically placed around town and sat him down on the park bench. "Here. Just sit for a minute will ya'?"  
"Hmmm," was about the only response he got from his partner. Jed would take it; it was better than an argument.  
Jed sat quietly and watched his cousin. Heyes slumped there looking dejected, his elbows resting on his knees with his hands clasped in front of him. He hung his head in misery. Jed sighed and gave him a gentle pat on the back.  
"Jacobs said ya' got bad news."  
Heyes didn't say a word but Jed heard him sniffle and knew he was crying. Kid sighed in disappointment and with his hand still on his partner's shoulder he sat back and waited it out. Heyes always got emotional when he drank; whatever he was feeling at the time, whether he was happy and festive or angry and volatile, or simply down and out like now, alcohol always heightened it and threw everything all out of proportion.  
Although this time, Jed had to admit that maybe Heyes had good reason to be upset.  
"I'm sorry Heyes," Jed finally said. "I take it the governor wasn't willing to lift the parole."  
"At's right!" Heyes announced a little louder than needs be. "Jus' gotta keep me un'er his thumb...! Ne'er gonna 'av a 'ife! Ne'er gonna be free...!" Heyes took a deep breath and ran a sleeve across his eyes. He turned a teary smile to the Kid. "Maybe Abi'll be 'appy. She pro'ly jus' got to'ether wi' me to 'ave another kid!"  
"Aw Heyes, you can't think that," Jed admonished him. "You know Abi loves ya'."  
Heyes shook his head dramatically. "I donno Kid!" He wagged a finger in the air to emphasize his point. "Ya' jus' can't trust' w'men! Ya' know? 'Eh seduce an innocent fella inta' bed jus' so's they can git wi' 'ild—then 'eh sna'ch..." snatching motion with his arms almost causing him to fall off the bench. Jed grabed him. "...'tanks. Ah...w'ere wasss I...? Oh ya'! Soooon as 'eh know they're wit 'ild 'eh disss-appear—don't even let a fella know 'e's a papa!  
"Can't trust 'em Kid—nope! W'men are only a'ter un thing...! 'Eh 'ust use a man fer sex, 'en when they got w'at they want, 'eh 'ust leave 'em, like 'ee's no'thn."  
"You make it sound like all of this is Abi's fault," Kid pointed out. "She's not the one who did this Heyes. You know she wanted you to be with them. It's not like the last time—she's not pushing ya' away."  
"No! 'Ut she's not willin' ta' stay w'th me either!"  
"You're only talkin' like this cause you're drunk," Kid told him. "You both agreed it was the only way to keep Anya safe."  
"So I can 'ever get married? 'Ever 'ave youn'uns?" Heyes bemoaned feeling dreadfully sorry for himself.  
Jed sighed. "I donno Heyes. Beth still wants to marry me, but then she's never lost a child—she doesn't know what Abi feels. I donno, maybe I'm being selfish myself, wanting to get married and have a family; maybe I'm putting Beth and our future children at risk. But not doin' somethin' 'cause of what 'might' happen just don't sit well with me. I can't live my life that way."  
Heyes nodded, staring at the ground. "Ya'."  
Jed sighed again, feeling for his partner. "Maybe Abi'll wait for ya'."  
Heyes shook his head. "No. 'Is was the final straw. 'It'sss over."  
"I'm sorry Heyes."  
Kid squeezed his partner's shoulder and gave him a gentle shake, Heyes just drooped and gave a heart-felt sigh and continued to stare at the ground. Jed casually glanced around him then and couldn't help but notice some disapproving looks from various townsfolk, including a couple of older ladies whom Jed remembered as being friends of Belle's. Seems there was going to be lots of gossip going around after church on Sunday! Kid groaned as he took note of another familiar face only this one was coming right towards them with a haughty arch to her eyebrow.  
"Good afternoon Jed."  
"Hello Isabelle."  
"What's the matter with your partner?"  
"He just got some bad news today, that's all."  
"Aww, poor Hannibal." Isabelle pouted and sat down beside the dark-haired drunk and patted his knee. "That little lady friend of yours dump you again?"  
"Isabelle!" Jed growled at her. "You ain't helpin'!"  
"What?" Isabelle looked up all innocent. "If she's going to keep on dumping him then he's better off without her!"  
"YA!" Heyes perked up and sent a soggy smile over to the 'lady'. "Be'er off wi'out her!"  
Isabelle patted his knee again. "That's right Hannibal," she encouraged him. "You can come call on me anytime you like. I won't dump on you like that."  
"No, I know you won't," Heyes slurred. "You'd be 'ice ta me."  
"Yes, I would," she confirmed with a smile. "Anytime you like, you just come see me. I'll help you to feel better. You'll forget all about...what's her name."  
"Abi," Heyes informed her as he returned to scrutinizing the ground. "Abi."  
"Well obviously 'Abi' just doesn't know a good thing when she's got it," Isabelle continued. "You deserve better."  
"YA!"  
At this point Kid was about fed up with Isabelle and her little flirtations and felt his resentment growing at her attempts to seduce Heyes when he was obviously at a low ebb.  
"Me and Heyes got things to talk about Isabelle, so would ya' mind...?"  
"What?" she asked puffing up with theatrical indignation. "I'm just trying to help him feel better!"  
"Yeah, I know what you're tryin' to do. Leave him alone!"  
"Well fine!" she huffed, and gathering her skirts she shot to her feet. "That's the thanks I get for just trying to help."  
"Aw, don't go..." Heyes reached out a hand to her, but fell short of his objective. "You were a'waysss real 'ice ta me, Isssa'el."  
"It seems your partner doesn't think so!" Isabelle pointed out, all in a huffy snit. "I won't stay where I'm not welcome. Good day gentlemen!"  
"Aww..." Heyes mumbled as she stomped off on her own business. "Wha' ya' chase 'er off for?"  
"If ya' weren't so drunk Heyes, you'd know what she was up to."  
"Ohhh..."  
"C'mon. Do ya' think you can make it over to David's place?"  
"Aw no—not there..."  
"Why not?" Jed asked him. "Ya' gotta sleep it off somewhere Heyes and you're too drunk to ride out to the ranch."  
"Veranda..." Heyes mumbled.  
Jed frowned. "You want to sleep it off on their veranda...?"  
Heyes shook his head and his hand, indicating a definite negative. "No! Not veranda. Veran...Mmm 'anda."  
"Oh!" Realization dawned. "Miranda!"  
"Ya!"  
"What about her?"  
"Don' wan' her ta' see me 'ike 'isss."  
"Oh. Well she may not be there, Heyes." Heyes sat back and sent his friend a sceptical look. "Yeah, yeah, okay." Jed conceded. "She usually is taking tea with Tricia right about now so..."  
"Ya..."  
Jed sighed. "Well, why don't we head over to the cafe then. We get some coffee into ya' and maybe you can ride out to the ranch in a couple of hours."  
"Ya—ok."

Heyes tossed the sack into the back of the wagon. Every action seemed to carry an underlying violence today, from his thumping headache to his raging temper – all except for Mouse; when he stroked her, his touch had become delicate and tender, but even she had sensed the undercurrents in his mood and run off after a few minutes. The ride to town had been a thunderous silence punctuated by fire-bolts of retort at any effort the Kid might make to communicate. Jesse had pronounced that Heyes should go back to town to apologize to Bill and anyone else he had offended. He should face his critics if his escapades were to be quickly forgotten. Jesse might have been right, but it didn't feel any better. He swung another bag of feed into the vehicle, snarling under his breath as his jacket snagged on the dangling metal peg on the tailgate. Dammit, would nothing go right today?  
A female voice came from behind. "Can I help you with that?"  
His head snapped around, drinking in the face of Isabelle Baird. "Oh, crap!"  
Her eyes widened. "I beg your pardon!?"  
Heyes' mind operated like quicksilver. "Trap! I said, 'a trap,'" he released his pocket from its hook. My jacket was trapped." He stepped back hurriedly, away from her outstretched hand. "It's fine."  
"Feeling better, Hannibal?" Isabelle purred.  
"Yeah, I've been busy," he muttered, stepping aside to get passed her. "I still am."  
Isabelle sidestepped until she was right in his path. "You're on your own today?"  
Heyes' eyes narrowed, burning into her, but refusing to answer. She blithely continued, as though unaware of the minefield she had just entered. "I'm sure she's not worth the headache. You really do deserve better. It's such a shame a bubble-headed piece like that should cause you so much pain."  
"What do you want?" Heyes growled.  
She smiled coquettishly at the object of her attentions. "I want to look after you. Who knew you were so flighty? First you're with Randa, then it's off – then you're with some visitor – then you're engaged to some woman up in Wyoming; was that this 'Abi?'" She shrugged before turning her head to look out through her lashes. "Now it's all over? You're finally free? You need the steady hand of a level-headed woman, one who knows how to value you."  
"Isabelle," Heyes' shoulders rose in irritation as he fought to control the spiraling anger whirling in his breast. "This isn't a good time."  
"I can see you're busy," Isabelle simpered. "Maybe you could pause for a spot of dinner before you head back to the Double J?"  
Heyes paused, the prospect of taking her up on her offer, and then using her, flashed through his mind. It would be interesting to be with this woman on the promise of what might be delivered, rather than in exchange for cold cash in the brothel. She would be simple enough to manipulate; her brainpower equaled her social skills – hence the stench of desperation. The images played through in his head like sand running through an hourglass; she was pleasing enough to be a diversion. Isabelle was pretty in a 'rose in full bloom' kind of way – the last flush of beauty which dissipates when the petals drop at the slightest touch - none of her beauty went through to the bone. It was transient and plastic – but the taste and feel of her could crowd the forefront of his mind and allow him an oasis away from pain.  
Somehow, an image of Jesse's disapproving face flickered through his mind's eye coupled with the reality of having to live in a town with an outraged virago on his tail and it no longer seemed such a good idea. He snapped up the tailgate of the wagon. "Just leave me alone, Isabelle. I'm not in the mood," he murmured.  
"You're never in the mood! She must have been more available than Randa, that's all I can say! I can do anything she can do." Isabelle gave a huff of irritation. "What does a girl have to do to get your attention around here?"  
Heyes' hackles started to rise. "Today she'd have to be up for hefting a few hundredweight of feed." He placed his hands on his hips in challenge, eyeing her with open hostility. "You don't look up to the job, Isabelle. You're not what I need, and you certainly can't do what she can."  
"Big girl, was she?" Isabelle's mouth knotted into a bud. "I have a softer touch. Try me?"  
Where was the Kid? What was keeping him in that store? Why did he have to choose today of all days to get chatty?  
Heyes stepped to walk towards the general store only to be cut off again. Whatever else she might be, she was quick. "Isabelle, take a warning, you couldn't have picked a worse day for this."  
"You were keen enough yesterday," Isabelle simpered.  
Heyes jaw tightened, his lips firming in anger. This stupid, prattling woman wouldn't get out of his way and his tolerance was already hanging in shreds. "I was drunk. I'm sober now."  
"And alone!"  
"Yeah, and I want to keep it that way," Heyes growled.  
"There you are! Your partner said you'd be here."  
Heyes and Isabelle turned, staring in surprise at the pretty blonde on the sidewalk. "Mrs. Oliphant?"  
"The very same, Mr. Heyes," Amy stepped down to the road and slipped an arm through Heyes'. "You have to come and collect the samples for the wedding. Did you forget?"  
Heyes frowned but allowed himself to be led towards the hat shop. He was headed away from Isabelle, so how bad could it be? "Yeah," he murmured. "I guess I did forget."  
Amy pushed at the door and guided the man inside, stopping Isabelle at the threshold. "I'm shut," she pointed to the sign. "It's lunchtime."  
"But he can come in?" Isabelle demanded.  
Amy smiled patiently. "It would appear so, but he's just collecting an order and will be gone in minutes. You'll be most welcome in an hour." She closed the door firmly and made sure the sign was turned to 'closed' before fastening the latch. She leaned with her back against it with a huge sigh. "I'm sorry for the deception, but you looked as though you were about to explode out there, so I thought you could do with rescuing."  
"There's no order?"  
Amy shook her head. "I could see from the shop window. You were getting more and more tense, but she just wouldn't leave you alone. I have met Isabelle Baird, and I guessed what was going on," Amy dropped her eyes, "I thought I could help."  
"Do you have a back door?"  
Amy nodded. "Yes, but couldn't you do with something to kill that headache before you scamper off?"  
Heyes' brow furrowed. "How did you...?"  
Amy cut him off with a smile. "I saw you yesterday. I was also a married woman, Mr. Heyes. I know men."  
The words 'Mr. Heyes' stabbed through him like a knife. "Please, call me Hannibal – or Han, either will do – but not Mr. Heyes."  
Amy nodded. "Now, before you head off, can I offer you some willow bark tea? It will kill that headache," she paused pursing her lips, "as well as getting some more fluids into you."  
He sighed. He did have a thumping headache and the invitation sounded tempting, but he was in no mood for a social call.  
As though picking up on his thoughts Amy continued. "I'm sorry I can't join you, I have too much to do making Beth's hat. It'll be just you and a cup of restoring tea in my darkened back shop until you feel strong enough to slip out the back way. I can keep an eye out for your partner from the window, and I'll tell him you're here if he appears."  
Heyes' mouth twitched into a smile for the first time that day. He could have hugged her, but it felt like too much effort. He settled on a grateful nod which made his brain feel like the clanger in some kind of dissonant bell. "Amy, that sounds just about perfect."  
Amy handed him the cup. "Here, it's a mixture of willow bark and chamomile – pain relieving and calming. There's a bit of honey in there to make it taste a bit less medicinal, and it'll help you to feel a bit more normal. Get some food as soon as you can. I bet you couldn't face breakfast this morning, could you?"  
Heyes shook his head. "Just coffee."  
He watched her head back to the main shop, leaving him alone – as good as her word. "Amy? How'd you know?"  
Her eyes flickered with a transient darkness. "My late husband was a drinker, Hannibal. I know how that can take a man."  
There was so much pain in her simple statement, an unspoken lifetime of injury and strain, but she merely smiled and turned to go.  
"Amy!"  
She stopped once again.  
"I'm not a drinker. I just had a bad day. I had heartbreaking news, is all."  
Amy nodded, her brows almost twitching into a frown. "I heard. I know how that feels too and I wanted to help. It will get better, not immediately, and certainly not quickly – but it will. You just need space to get there, a little step at a time. Drink your tea and slip out the back door when you feel ready. I have some hats to make."

"Heyes?" The Kid shut the barn door behind him, eyeing the pitchfork in his angry partner's hand uneasily. "We need to talk."  
Heyes flicked up an eyebrow and returned to the litter and mess in the stall. "I'm not in the mood."  
"Tough."  
A pair of hostile dark eyes hooked the ice-blue. "I'm busy."  
"You're behavin' like an ass. I know you're hurtin'; but snappin' at everyone who tries to help ya is only goin' to get you a sock on the jaw."  
"Well, it's good to know the kind of support I've got, isn't it?"  
"Heyes, how long will it take before you learn that bottlin' things up don't work? You and Abi love one another and this is eatin' you up. Talk to me."  
Heyes tossed the pitchfork away and lifted a yard brush. "There's nothing to talk about. She's gone. We agreed that if the parole wasn't adjusted in a way that'd let us hide from Joan Baines, we'd call it a day for Anya's sake."  
"Yeah?"  
"So! Am I supposed to be happy about it!?"  
"No, Heyes, you're not – but this is me. You've hardly said a sober word to me since you heard the news."  
"Leave me alone, Kid."  
"You know where you stand now. Can't you come to some kind of arrangement? We both know this isn't gonna last forever. You can appeal again when the Governor's forgotten about Joplin, or there's always the next one if Barber won't see reason."  
"Barber's just been voted in, he could be there for another four years, and they don't get into office because of memory problems." Heyes threw the broom against the wall. "In fact, the only thing that seems to slip any of their minds is the deal we had for amnesty."  
"So it could be four years, Heyes, but you've waited ten already. Can't you come to some kind of arrangement?"  
"Arrangement!" Heyes' fists knotted into balls of anger. "Arrange what? For my remaining daughter to put her head in a noose? He wants me to stay out of trouble but denies me my family!? For ten cents I'd walk right out of here without looking back, I've had enough of all of this."  
The Kid's eyes widened. "You wouldn't! Heyes don't throw it all away, have a little patience."  
"Why does patience have to be such a virtue? Why can't anyone see the merits of telling these idiots to hurry up?"  
The Kid nodded. "Yup, you've got a point."  
Heyes advanced on his cousin, his eyes swirling with fury. "So! What good does that do me? I've now lost two families, Kid. I've done everything they asked of me for years, and they still grind me under their heels. Why shouldn't I head out of here and take Abi and Anya to another country?"  
"They'd find ya, Heyes."  
The dark eyes shadowed with determination. "No they wouldn't, Kid. Not if I put my mind to it."  
The Kid felt fear grip his heart. "Heyes, I want you at my weddin'. I waited all these years, don't bail out on me now."  
Heyes paused, sensing real dread from his partner. "I won't... I wouldn't."  
"Promise me, Heyes. I need ya' there."  
Heyes gulped down a knot of bile. "Yeah, I won't do anything until after your wedding."  
The Kid nodded and walked over, embracing the man briefly before stepping back. "We've been through a lot together, and I want us to have that happy endin' together too. If that means you need to go somewhere to be with Abi, then I'll support ya' in that too. All I ask is that you wait until I'm married. If you don't react to this immediately, they'll be off guard and you'll have a better chance."  
Heyes dropped hopelessly down on a bale. "I'm shooting in the dark, Kid. We agreed it was over if the parole didn't go through. All these years have driven both of us mad and we've both walked away from chances of building a life because we held out for a dream." Heyes stared intensely ahead, but felt his partner sit beside him.  
"Randa?"  
"I guess; and although she wouldn't talk about it, I know Abi had chances too." Heyes dropped his head into his hands. "I know we agreed to walk away, but I don't want to. Those days with Abi and Anya are the best memories of my life."  
Heyes felt a hand on his shoulder. "Heyes, I'll help you do whatever you need to do. All I ask is that you give it time to think it through reasonably and work with me." He felt the tension in Heyes' muscles relax. "I want you at my weddin', Heyes. It matters to me."  
"I'll be there, Kid," murmured Heyes.  
"Good." The Kid stood. "And when you take the time to work things out – calmly; I'll be there to help you. Abi was right about things drivin' you both mad. It's make or break, and she's on holiday, so you've got time. Think about what you've got to do for me as best man, then I'll be there for you, come hell or high water. We'll plan things right, and do it together – just like we used to."  
"We'll be closed in a minute." Amy turned to face the customer who had just tinkled their way into her shop. "Oh, Mr. Heyes."  
Heyes gave a deep sigh. "Please, call me anything, but don't call me that."  
"I'm sorry, Hannibal." She smiled softly.  
"I came to thank you for your help the other day."  
"You're most welcome. Feeling better?" Amy walked over and dropped a box on the counter.  
"Thanks to you, yes." Heyes face dimpled into a rueful smile. "The tea took the edge off it and made me feel well enough to have some lunch. A pot of coffee later I started to feel human again."  
Amy's smile widened. "I'm glad. Happier?"  
"Nope." Heyes shrugged, "but I managed to apologize to folks so I guess it was an improvement."  
"That's a step forward."  
"Yeah." Heyes thrust his hands awkwardly into his jacket pockets. "I really do owe you a debt. I was about to explode at Isabelle, and even though she's not the most popular woman in town, it wouldn't have been the right thing to do."  
Amy tilted her head arching a brow. "You don't owe me anything. I'd have done it for anyone. It was just a cup of tea and some quiet time."  
"Yeah, but you took the time to do it, and I'm grateful for that."  
Amy's blue eyes twinkled. "Good, you must tell every girl in town that you find them irresistible in one of my hats as a thank you. That'll have them queuing around the block."  
Heyes shook his head. "Sorry, Amy. I'm not really in the state of mind to go around town flirting."  
Her gaze intensified. "You've just lost someone you loved and I was being trite? I'm sorry."  
"You have nothing to be sorry for."  
"I do Hannibal. I've been there, and I know the pain of heartbreak. It's no laughing matter."  
"You lost your husband recently?"  
"A couple of years ago, but I'm only recently in a state of mind where I can think of living instead of existing."  
Heyes nodded. "That's tough, but I'm glad you've turned the corner. I'm sure you can build a life here. Men outnumber women here, I'm sure they'll be queuing up for you."  
Amy shook her head. "No, I'm not interested."  
"Nobody can replace him? I sure know how that feels."  
She dropped her head. "No, my husband could be," she paused, groping for the right word, "difficult. I'm in no hurry to put myself in that situation again. I'm finally independent and I like it that way."  
Heyes frowned. "Maybe it'd be better next time?"  
Her voice rasped with emotion. "It's complicated. He drank, and when he was drunk, he..." Her voice drifted off. "I never stopped loving him though; that's what makes it hard. I can't trust my own judgment," she pulled herself together, and gave a watery smile. "This isn't about me. I'm glad you feel better."  
Heyes turned and headed for the door, pausing before he opened it. "Thanks again, maybe we can talk properly sometime? I get the feeling we both need a friendly ear."  
"I'd like that, Hannibal, but it could only ever be as friends. I'm happy as I am."  
"I sure envy you that, Amy. Maybe you can tell me how to get there too." Heyes nodded. "See you around. Maybe you can make me some more tea next time?"  
"Hannibal, all you need is for someone to listen while you sort out your own mind. I found out that goodbye can be a painful way to recognize real love, but having that in your life can only ever add to your soul if you learn not to treat other people's failures as your own." Amy smiled. "It took me a long time to learn that lesson, and look at me now. I went from being under a domineering mother's thumb, straight to my husband's – but I now I have the confidence to come all the way out here and start my own business. It's progress. You will have that too, but it'll be one step at a time."  
Heyes' eyes narrowed pensively. "You're a very interesting woman, Amy. You intrigue me." He tipped his hat. "Until next time."  
He strode out of the shop and clattered his way down the street. He was glad Amy had given him something else to think about – she was a deep thinker, but there was a lightness about her character which he found engaging. Life had clearly given her plenty of knocks, but she just kept getting right back up again and carried on. His mouth twitched at the corners at the thought of her greeting the famous actress as guilessly as she had welcomed the ex-outlaws. Yup, she and Belle were likely to become good friends, and he certainly felt no objection to having her visit – in fact, her need to remain alone and independent made her company unthreatening, tranquil, and fun.  
He was still distracted, but slightly happier as he made his way back to the wagon; too absorbed in his thought to be on his guard, and certainly too engrossed in his pain to notice the saddle tramp loitering on the sidewalk across the road.  
The grey, hawk-like eyes peered over the sharp nose, watching Heyes' progress down Main Street.  
"Interesting..." he murmured. "Very interesting."

To Be Continued


	13. Rites and Wrongs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wheat gets his new lease on life.  
> The wedding plans are in full swing  
> Heyes and Amy's friendship develops  
> Miranda wonders where she stands in Hannibal's affections.  
> A new gentleman in town, accompanied by his mother, gets Sheriff Jacobs' suspicions aroused.

Rites and Wrongs

It was the middle of the afternoon on a warm and pleasant spring day that found two travel-weary friends trying their best to disappear into a side alley. Considering the dusty monotone of their attire that blended in almost seamlessly with the faded wooden siding of the structures surrounding them they weren't finding it too difficult to become one with their environment.  
Both men, if one were to notice them, appeared nervous and watchful.  And though they kept their backs up against the wall behind them they still sent furtive glances out to the busy main street, hoping that if trouble saw them, they would see it first. Unfortunately even with their vigilance they ended up missing the one thing that they had been looking for and both breathing dust mops jumped skittishly when they suddenly found themselves being scrutinized by the piercing blue eyes of Kid Curry

“Jeezus Kid!” the breathing, dusty not quite as dead as he used to be man complained. “What'cha doin' sneakin' up on us like that?!” 

“What's the matter Wheat?” Kid asked him with a smile on his lips and a teasing glint in his eye. “You're actin' like the whole sheriff's department is on your trail.”

“What's the matter!?” Wheat repeated, his tone escalating with his nervousness. “We're standin' here in broad daylight right smack dab in the middle of the busiest street in Cheyenne, Wyoming! And yur askin' me what's the matter?!”

“Oh c'mon!” Kid ridiculed him. “You're here to meet up with the law—not run away from them.” Then Kid started to brush Wheat's shirt off and quickly gave up the effort when they all got surrounded by a billowing cloud of dust. “Jeez, you fellas are a mess! Couldn't ya' have cleaned up some?”

Wheat was unable to answer due to the harsh coughing spasm brought on by the dust cloud.  

“Wul, we been hidin' in this here alley waitin' fer you Kid,” Kyle defended him and his partner. “Not like we could just walk into the hotel and order us up a bath.”

“No reason why you couldn't Kyle,” Kid pointed out to him. “You ain't wanted no more.” 

Kyle's expression froze for an instant as the words sunk into his brain. Then his blue eyes sparkled and a boyish grin took over his face. “Oh yeah...”

“Well, c'mon...” Kid prodded them out of the alleyway. “the governor's waitin' to see ya'.” 

“No, no...now wait!” Wheat grabbed hold of Jed's shirt sleeve, effectively stopping him in his tracks. “Now you're sure this ain't some kinda trap, right?”  

Jed sighed and repeated it yet again....”It ain't a trap Wheat,” he assured his ex-gang member. “I wouldn't lead ya' into no trap. The governor really wants ta' see ya'.”

“You're sure, now...” 

“Wheat, c'mon!” Jed was getting frustrated with all this; they'd already been over it so many times. “Lom's here too, and Sheriff Jacobs. Everybody's here, willing ta' back ya' up on this.” 

“Yeah? Well where is Heyes?” Wheat asked while he looked furtively about. “Why ain't he here?”  

“Cause you ain't got your amnesty yet and Heyes can't associate with known outlaws,” Jed explained yet again. “Once you sign those papers and you got your amnesty then you can see Heyes.”  

“Yeah, but what..?”  

“WHEAT!” Jed'd had enough. “We gonna do this or not? This offer ain't gonna come to ya' a second time; it's now or never.”  

“Yeah, yeah alright,” Wheat grumbled. “I suppose...”  

“Yeah, c'mon Wheat,” Kyle encouraged him. “It's real nice not bein' wanted no more.”  

“How would you know?” Wheat turned on his partner. “You keep on forgettin' you ain't wanted no more!”  

Kyle's smile dropped as he fidgeted for an explanation. “Wul yeah, but...that's just cus' I'm runnin' with you and you're still wanted.” The boyish grin came flooding back. “But when you ain't wanted no more you can remind me that I ain't wanted no more.”  

Wheat and Jed stood in silence for a moment, trying to take in the smaller man's logic.

“Ya' know, that actually kinda made sense,” Wheat finally admitted. “Let's go get this thing done before I totally lose my mind.” 

The walk down the carpeted hallway was just about the longest soft walk the Kid had ever made. He strode forward confidently but was still very much aware of the scuffling and mumbling behind him and the many discouraging glances around them. A few of the gentler folk even put a hand up to noses in an effort to block out the odorous aroma wafting off the two trail-weary individuals. This new governor sure had some odd associates!  

“Howdy boys,” came Lom's voice from down the hall as the trio turned the last corner. “Beginning to think ya' changed your mind on us.”  

“Oh, hey howdy Lom,” Wheat was practically wringing his hands in his nervousness. “Are you sure...” Quick cough to get the frog out of his throat and a swallow to bring his tone down a notch. “Are you sure this is what the governor had in mind?”  

“Yup,” Lom assured the outlaw. “The governor's real interested in meeting you two. He was very impressed with the way you tracked down Harris and he agrees that if you're willing to accept the terms of an amnesty then he just might see fit to let bygone's be bygone's.”  

“Uh huh.” Wheat didn't sound too convinced. “What are these terms that I'm suppose ta accept?”  

“Ah, well that you agree to work with Heyes and Curry in their detective business and that you also agree to report in to Sheriff Jacobs and myself on a regular basis so that we know where ya' are. But ya' can't tell nobody. It'll be our secret. What good would ya' be getting in cozy with the outlaw element if'n they knew you was legal?”   

Wheat and Kyle exchanged glances. Kyle smiled like it was some kind of joke.  

“So....” Wheat looked sceptical. “... only you and us and the governor are gonna know about it? I'm still gonna be wanted as far as the law and damned bounty hunters are concerned?”  

“Well, yes,” Lom conceded. “But now, if ya' get arrested they can't hold ya'. You just get in touch with your lawyer and he'll get ya' out.”  

“Well, ya' know the funny thing about most lawmen and all bounty hunters is that they tend to shoot first and ask later,” Wheat pointed out. “Kinda late once I'm in the ground to let 'em know I ain't wanted no more.” 

“You've been dead before Wheat,” Jed teased him. “You apparently came out of it alive.”  

Wheat just snorted at him.  

“Yeah!” Kyle agreed with a toothy grin but instantly dropped it when met with his partner's sardonic stare.   

“Gentlemen!” Higgins summoned them from across the hall. “Governor Barber is ready to see you now.”   
    
The four gentlemen in the hallway nodded and made their way over to the secretary who then ushered them into the governor's office. There were already other visitors seated around the desk and everyone there stood up to meet the new-comers. Wheat and Kyle looked and felt decidedly out of place as they tried to brush the dust off the other. 

“Ah, here you are!” Governor Barber stood up and came around his desk, offering his hand to the two dusty drifters. “Ahh, which one of you is Mr. Carlson?”  

“Ah...that'd be me,” Wheat informed him, awkwardly shaking the official's hand.  

“Well...interesting to finally meet you, Mr. Carlson.” Barber retracted his hand after the shake and consciously refrained from wiping his palm along his trouser leg. “Considering we were all under the impression that you were deceased this all comes as quite a surprise.”  

“Yeah, you ain't kiddin',” Wheat mumbled.  

“And you must be Mr. Murtry.”  

“Yeah!” Kyle grinned and shook the governor's hand. He was actually beginning to enjoy meeting all these high up gentlemen. 

Barber smiled and motioned to the other two individuals who had stood up to meet the new-comers. “This is Sheriff Jacobs. He, along with Sheriff Trevors will be helping you settle into your new life.”  

“Oh, yeah. Howdy.” Wheat shook Jacobs hand and then nervously wiped his own palm against his dirty pants. Being surrounded by badges, even if one of them was an old friend was making him jumpy.   
    
“And this gentleman here is your lawyer, Mr. Granger.”  

Wheat perked up a little bit and Kyle grinned even more at the mention of the familiar name.   

“Oh, Mr. Granger!” Even Wheat managed a smile. “Yeah, I sure do remember you. You paid us real well.”  

“Yeah!” Kyle agreed. “We done lived good well on what you sent us.”  

“You gentlemen deserved it,” Steven assured them. “Tracking down Mr. Harris the way you did took real courage and tenacity. We all appreciated it.”  

“After the things that bastard done, we was pretty determined to catch him anyways--even without you payin' us!.” Wheat admitted. “Weren't no tears shed when we heard he died in prison, I can tell ya' that!”  

“Yeah,” Kyle agreed with an emphatic nod. 

“Well, gentlemen...please, sit down,” Barber offered. “Would you like some coffee?”  

“No, we're fine,” Wheat answered. “Let's just get this show on the road here. I wanna know what this here 'deal' is all about.”  

“Oh, well fine,” Barber smiled. “A man who likes to get down to business. Good.” Barber took the documents that were on the desk in front of him and swivelled them around so that they were under Wheat's nose. “This is the deal that I am prepared to offer you. Mr. Granger has already viewed it and is agreeable, as are Sheriff Jacobs and Sheriff Trevors. All we need is your approval and signature. Ahh...you can read...can't you?”  

“Yeah! Course I can read.” Wheat was insulted but then creased his brow in confusion as he scanned over the top page of the documents and saw many words there that he didn't recognize. “Ahh, sorta...”  

“I'm sure Mr. Granger will help you with anything you don't understand,” Barber commented and then he stood up. “I will leave you gentlemen to discuss this. Just give Mr. Higgins a shout when you're done.”  

“Yeah, okay...”  

Twenty minutes later Wheat was still not so sure he wanted to sign his life away. Kyle had given up smiling and Jed was about ready to wring the man's neck. The two sheriff's were sitting patiently and Steven was doing his best to explain the details of the contract, yet again.  
     
“I just don't get this how I wouldn't officially be wanted no more, but I'd still be on the run!” Wheat complained. “How's that right?”  

“It would be kinda like what me and Heyes went through, only better,” Jed told him. “When we got caught Heyes still ended up going to prison. If you were to get caught well, Steven here would get ya' out. You wouldn't have to stand trial or nothin', 'cause ya already got your amnesty.”     
    
“Yeah, but what if...”  

“Wheat we already went over this in the alleyway!”  

“No, no Jed,” Steven settled him with a placating hand. “Mr. Carlson has the right to ask any questions he wants to. He needs to fully understand the conditions before he signs anything.”  

“Yeah, that's right Kid!” Wheat took advantage while he had it. “So stop proddin' me!”   

“I ain't proddin' ya' Wheat!” Jed was getting mad. “It's just we've been over this...”  

“Just give me a minute!” Wheat complained. “How can I know the law will honour this agreement?”  

“That's part of why I'm here, Mr. Carlson,” Steven explained. “I will have a copy of the document, as will yourself. It will be signed by all of us here, including the governor so it will be official. The law has to honour it. It'll be something like what your friend, Mr. Curry has. Governor Warren granted him an amnesty and even Governor Moonlight who was not in agreement with that decision was helpless to over-rule it. It was binding, just as your amnesty will be and so long as you abide by the conditions it cannot be taken away from you.”  

“Yeah.” Wheat still sounded sceptical. “Those conditions bein' that I can't tell nobody and that I remain in contact with Lom and Sheriff Jacobs. And that I also have ta' make myself available to Heyes and the Kid for those occasions when they think they might need my special talents, so to speak.”  

“That's about the size of it,” Steven agreed. “Oh, and also that you refrain from any illegal activity that does not pertain directly to any undercover work you might be employed in at the time. No robbing of banks or holding up trains, that sort of thing. Unless you are infiltrating a gang who are engaged in that type of criminal activity. Then of course, you must play along.”   
    
“It'll be like old times!” Kyle finally spoke up. “We can go back to robbin' trains but the law can't arrest us fer it!”  

“Well...sort of.” Steven showed some concern at the smaller man's enthusiasm. “Whenever Mr. Heyes or Mr. Curry call you in to do a job I will go over the plans with you and we can then decide what criminal activities you may be expected to partake in, in order to complete your assignment. There may be a fine line between what you can and cannot do so it is important that you not step over that line. Do you understand this?”  

“Yeah, sure.” Wheat shrugged. “I can dip my hand into the candy jar but I can't take nothin' out.”  

Steven smiled. “Yes, that's about it.” 

The five men sat quietly while Wheat and Kyle exchanged a look. Kyle gave a barely perceptible nod.  

“Yeah, fine,” Wheat finally agreed and Jed audibly sighed with relief. “I suppose I'll sign it. Things ain't been the same since we lost Devil's Hole anyways.”  

“Good.” Steven tried not to show his relief as transparently as Jed had. “It's a step in the right direction, Mr. Carlson. And your friends are all here to support you.”  

“Yeah,” Wheat grumbled. “Except Heyes.”  

“I told ya' Wheat,” Kid reiterated. “ya' gotta get your amnesty first. Don't want him goin' back to prison do ya'?”  

“Yeah, okay. Where do I sign this thing?”   
    
Back out in the hallway everyone was pleased with the end result and a lot of the stress had been relieved. Wheat was the only one who was still looking a little dubious and the others tried to cheer him up.  

“Congratulations Wheat.” Lom shook his friend's hand. “This is all gonna work out fine, you'll see.”  

“Uh huh.”    
   
“Yeah, c'mon Wheat,” Jed seconded. “We'll all get together tonight for a celebratory dinner and you'll be feelin' a whole lot better!” 

“Yeah, but what the hell am I suppose to do fer money in the meantime?” Wheat griped. “It's not like I can just go rob a bank now is it?” 

“What have ya' been doin'?” Jed asked reasonably.   

Wheat and Kyle exchanged slightly guilty looks.  

“Well, you know Kid,” Wheat shrugged. “The usual.”  

“Yeah,” Kyle grinned. “The usual.”   

Skeptical looks got sent their way.  

“Uh huh,” Jed commented.  

“You know you can't be doing that anymore,” Steven informed them. “And Mr. Murtry if you have been engaging in illegal activity I don't want to hear about it, and it stops—now!”  

“Well now that just brings us right back to my original question,” Wheat pointed out. “What are we suppose to do about money while we're waitin' fer Heyes or the Kid to get in touch?” 

“We'll discuss that over dinner,” Steven assured them both. “I'm sure we can work something out. In the meantime, do you have a room at the hotel?”  

“Nope,” Wheat stated bluntly.  

Steven nodded and took out his pocket book. “Here's some cash just for now. Get a room, get cleaned up and maybe buy yourselves some new clothes. We'll all meet up at the hotel lobby say around six o'clock and go have dinner. We can discuss the details then.”   
    
“Oh.” Wheat seemed a little reluctant to take money that was being freely offered him rather than him having to steal it. Getting money via a telegram was one thing but having the lawyer just hand it to him out of the blue somehow seemed a bit degrading. “Ya, well...I suppose...”   

Kyle, who had been eyeing the money with open glee sent his partner a confused look. Then he nudged him. “C'mon Wheat. You could do with a bath.”  
     
“Ya' well so could you, ya little runt!” Wheat sniped back and Kyle looked hurt. “Yeah, yeah alright.” Wheat took the offered funds and Kyle was back to smiling again. “C'mon Kyle, let's go get cleaned up.”  

“Yeah!”  

The remaining men watched the two partners disappearing down the hall and around the corner leaving the aroma of dust, campfires and unwashed bodies wafting in the air like a well marked trail behind them.   
    
“Whoa...” Lom complained. “You should have given them that money before the meeting.”  

“I was afraid they might not show up at all once they had funds,” Steven explained. “But it might have been worth the risk.”  

“I just hope they don't go get cleaned up and then decide to not show,” Jed commented. “If they ride outa here now, I'll run them down and shoot them myself!”   
    
Jacobs smiled. “I'm sure they'll show,” he assured everyone. “Nothing like a free meal...”  

“Yup.”  

“That's true.”    
   
   
   
Nobody needed to worry about the two new ex-outlaws as Jacobs words were never more true and both miscreants were actually early arriving in the hotel lobby. Lom and Steven entered the foyer and breathed a sigh of relief, not to mention fresh air at the sight of the two men of the hour looking scrubbed and cleaned and ready for dinner in a decent restaurant.  

“Howdy boys!” Lom greeted them. “You're lookin' a little more comfortable about things. Ready to eat?” 

“Yeah!” Kyle was emphatic. “I don't get into one of these fancy eaten' houses too often. This oughta be good!”  

“Uh huh,” was Lom's only comment.  

“We certainly have enough to discuss, and to celebrate,” Steven commented. “Let's go get a table and get settled.”  

“What about the Kid?” Wheat asked, looking around him a little nervously. “He's comin' ain't he?” 

“Yes, he's coming,” Steven assured him. “Don't worry about it; he'll be here.”  
     
“Yeah, but...”  

Next thing Wheat knew, Lom had him by the elbow and was leading him into the hotel restaurant whether he wanted to go there or not. Wheat kept looking over his shoulder, feeling like he was being led into a trap but he saw no logical way to back out of it. Kyle on the other hand was striding confidently forward with his hands hooked into the lapels of his new jacket with his big toothy grin leading the way. True to his word, he was really going to enjoy this!  

“C'mon Wheat,” Lom encouraged the hesitant man. “Kid'll be along—don't worry about it.”  

The hostess approached Steven since he appeared to be the least barbaric of the group and put on a pleasant smile for the attractive, obviously professional gentleman.   
    
“Table for four, sir?” she asked him hopefully.   
    
“No,” Steven corrected her. “There will be seven of us this evening.”  

“Seven?” Wheat mumbled as they were escorted to a fine table. “I may not have gone ta' school, but I can count. Who else is gonna be here?”  

Everybody ignored him as they settled in around the table and Steven ordered two bottles of red wine. 

Kyle grinned and nudged his partner. “We's getten' wine...” he whispered as though it were a secret.  
    
“Yeah,” Wheat grumbled. “I'd be just as happy with a cold beer.”  

Kyle's smile dropped and he leaned into his partner. “What's matter with you?” he asked quietly. “This is the best we been treated in an outlaw's life-span. Everybody's rooten' for ya' Wheat.”  
     
“Yeah, I don't like it,” Wheat grumbled. “I never did trust the Kid, you know that. And where's Heyes? Surrounded by all these lawmen—I don't like it.” 

Jacobs put in an appearance just then and sent a universal greeting to everyone at the table. He settled in between Lom and Steven.  “Evenin' gentlemen,” Jacobs said. “Everyone hungry?”  

“Oh yes!”   

“Definitely ready for a good meal.”   
    
The waitress showed up then with seven wine glasses which she strategically placed in all the appropriate places and was quickly followed by the waiter bringing the first of two bottles of wine. He un-corked the first with a loud 'pop!' causing both Wheat and Kyle to jump and send him nasty glances. He ignored them and poured a small portion of the wine into Steven's glass. Steven swirled the red liquid around a couple of times, took a light sniff and then tasted it. He smiled and nodded to the waiter. All the glasses were then proportionally filled.    
The two ex-outlaws looked at the portions in their glasses as though this were some kind of joke.  

“Don't worry about it fellas,” Lom assured them. “You can have as many re-fills as you like.”  

“Well why not save the man the trouble and just fill the glasses to the top?” Wheat complained. “Then we'd all be happy.”  

“Oh, here they come!” Steven announced.  

Everyone followed his gesture and suddenly Wheat was feeling a whole lot better. He stood up with a smile and extended a hand to his ex-boss.  

“Heyes!” he greeted him. “I was gettin' worried ya' wouldn't be shown up.”  

“Hey Wheat,” Heyes grinned, happy to finally be able to see his friend again. “I wouldn't miss this for the world. Ya' over the shock of it yet?”  

Wheat grinned a little foolishly. “I donno. Sure good ta' see you though.”  

Heyes stopped smiling, and taking Wheat's hand he looked his compatriot straight in his brown eyes and then moved in and put a hand on his shoulder.    
“It's good to see you too Wheat,” he said, very seriously. “It was a terrible thing; what happened to Devil's Hole and then I thought we had lost you too. The only thing that gave me hope was that Kyle is terrible at keeping a secret and for once in his miserable life that was a good thing...” Creased brow from Kyle, not sure if he should be insulted or not. “...It's good to have ya' back with us Wheat.” Heyes grinned again. “And good to have ya' on our side again!”  

“Yeah, about that,” Wheat leaned in conspiratorially. “is this on the up and up? I'm really gettin' an amnesty if I agree to do some odd jobs for you two?”  

“Yup,” Heyes nodded. “In fact you've already got it.  That was the deal.”  
     
“Well, shoot Heyes! Why didn't ya' come and tell me that yourself?” 

“I couldn't, Wheat, you know that,” Heyes told him. “It sure is good to see ya' now though.”   
    
“Well yeah, 'a course,” Wheat straightened his shoulders and dropped back into character. “I wasn't worried, just....wonderin' where you was and all...”  

Kyle snorted. “Yeah. We was thinkin' you done set us up or somethin'...” Wheat gave Kyle a quick punch in the arm. “Ouch! What ya' done that fer!?”

“Shuddup, Kyle!”

“Well, what...?”   
    
“Oh settle down fellas,” Heyes told them as he and Jed found their own chairs and helped themselves to wine. “This is supposed to be a celebratory dinner.”   
    
“Well, yeah...” Wheat mumbled.  
    
“And now that we are all here,” Steven stood up and raised his glass. “To new beginnings.”  

“Here, here!” 

After dinner the various officials in the party felt it most discretionary to allow the old friends to have some time together. They went their own separate ways while the four ex-outlaws made a bee line for the saloon.  
It was late in the evening by the time the dinner broke up but it was relatively mild out as they laughed and joked their way towards the local drinking hole. They were all in a good mood, even Wheat and though they had tended to get on each other's nerves while riding together in the same gang, tonight they were pleased to be in the company of friends.    
They pushed their way through the bat wing doors laughing and joshing with one another and quickly made their way over to an empty table in anticipation of a few beers and 'some old time's sake' discussion before heading back to their hotel rooms. Heyes did a quick scan of the numerous poker games going on at the time but then decided that tonight was not the night for that and dismissed the temptation from his mind.    
They all settled in around their chosen table and one of the gals was quick to come over for their order, she even included a bowl full of nuts to go along with their beers since they appeared to be here for the long haul.   
   
“So Wheat! How ya' feelin'?” Heyes asked as he clapped the older man on the back. “New duds, new lease on life. Ya' ready to start living like an honest man?”  

“Yeah, I suppose. I...”  

Whatever Wheat had been about to say was cut short by the loud explosion of a gun going off inside close quarters. Screams filled the smoke-heavy air and everyone, patrons and employees alike made a frantic rush for cover. Everyone that is except the group of friends at the newly occupied table.  
Wheat didn't even know what hit him. The bullet sliced through his right arm and his surprised reaction sent him falling backwards so that he and his chair crashed to the dusty floor boards. He lay there with the wind knocked out of him and blood oozing from the wound in his arm. He was cursing to beat the band while at the same time coughing and gasping to bring air back into his lungs  
Kyle was instantly on the floor beside him, grabbing hold of Wheat's brand new shirt lapel, scared to death that his partner might be really badly hurt. Instinct took over and he grabbed his new bandana and shoved it down inside Wheat's shirt sleeve in order to staunch the bleeding despite his friends’ fervent protests.     
Heyes was on his feet in an instant, his gun drawn and pointing towards their assailant and then when he saw who that assailant was his blood ran hot. Fear for that man dissipated in a rush of indignant anger!  

“Morrison! You fucking bastard!” Aim was taken and Heyes' finger tightened on the trigger all ready to blow the marshal into the after-life when suddenly the Kid was there, putting himself between Heyes and Morrison and forcing Heyes to pull his Schofield up just in time to send a bullet into the ceiling. “Jezzuss Kid!! Get outta the way!”

“NO!” Jed came forward and grabbed Heyes by the shoulders, stopping his partner's forward rush. “Back off Heyes! Don't do it!”  

“You better listen to your partner Heyes!” Morrison sneered at him as he re-cocked his own gun. “You come at me again and I'll put you into the dirt!”   
    
“What the hell do ya' think you're doing!?” Heyes yelled back at him, over his partner's shoulder. “He's been given an amnesty—you got no right...!”  

“An amnesty!?” Morrison snarled as he came towards them. “After the life of crime that bastard has led—after what he did to me!? I'm suppose to just let him go because of some stupid piece of paper!?” Stopping for a beat to catch his breath and cough. Big wheezing intake and then....“It's bad enough that you two are back to walking around free as the wind—I shoulda killed the whole lot of ya when I had the chance! Nothin' but rats in a nest!” 

Heyes made another lunge at the lawman but Kid had him solid and really leaned into him.  

“Heyes no!” Jed's whisper was frantic. “Ya' can't—you'll throw everything away. Don't do it.”  

Heyes' lips were drawn back in anger and his brown eyes were like molten chocolate burning into the marshal. He was ignoring Jed and trying to bring his gun arm back into play again. Morrison just stood quietly and watched him struggle, knowing that Curry wasn't going to let his partner get the upper hand. 

Jed knew he didn't have Heyes' attention and shook him until the brown eyes turned to meet with his. “Don't do it Heyes,” Jed whispered again and then breathed with relief when he saw the fire finally go out of his friend's eyes.    
Heyes took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. He was shaking with the adrenaline and his breathing was unsteady, but eventually he began to relax as he held his cousin's gaze with his. He nodded at Jed and the vice like grip on his shoulders released their hold. Suddenly he was aware of the cursing going on behind him and both he and Kid looked around as Kyle assisted the wounded Wheat up to his feet. 

Wheat took one look at Morrison standing there with that insufferable smile on his face and tried to go for his own gun.  “You bastard!” Wheat gasped out as he fumbled with his six-shooter. “You never had the chance to kill me! You tried and failed every time!” Cough, cough, cough. “Whatever you got from me you had comin'!”  
     
“I'm an officer of the law, cleaning out a den of coyotes!” Cough, cough, cough! “You're dirt! All of ya!” Cough, cough. “Amnesty! You destroyed my career and now you're gettin'....” Cough, cough. “ ...amnesty!? What a joke!”   
    
“Yeah, well you destroyed Devil's Hole! Killed a lot of my...” Cough, cough, cough. “...friends! Not to mention ripping my lungs apart!” Cough, cough!  

“I killed rats in a...” Cough, cough, cough! “...hole! It'll be a cold day in...hell...” Cough, gasp. “...when I let the likes of you...” Cough, cough!    
    
“Oh this is getting ridiculous,” Heyes mumbled now that he had come down off his anger. Seeing his friend up and cursing did a lot to waylay his fears. But now, seeing these two adversaries confronting one another but barely being able to form sentences due to previous injuries was making this whole situation seem surreal.   

“Yeah,” Kid agreed quietly, then with more volume. “Look, why don't we all just sit down and have a drink.” 

“A drink!?” Wheat's tone rose with his indignation. “I got a bloody hole in my arm!”  

“Wul it ain't really that bad Wheat...” Kyle tried to placate his friend. “You done rode back ta' Devil's Hole clutchin' a sack full 'a money with worse than this...”   
    
Wheat turned on his friend with a snarl. “What the hell you talkin' about!?” Cough, cough! “I've been shot!”   

“Well now let's just take a look at it Wheat,” Kid suggested as he left Heyes and Morrison to stand sizing each other up. “Maybe it ain't so bad as all that.” Kid took a look at the arm and Wheat yelped as he pulled the bandana away from the wound. “It's about done bleedin' already. It ain't that bad.” Kid shoved the bandana back into place and gave Wheat a pat on the back. “Sure ya' don't want another beer Wheat? You can have the doc take a look at it later if it's still botherin' ya'.”   
    
“Yeah, well...I suppose a beer would be alright...”  

“Good.” Jed smiled and turned to face their adversary. “Marshal...join us for a beer?”   
    
“What!?” Cough, cough. “You expect me to sit down with this...this...” Cough, cough...

Heyes smiled, seeing the opportunity for some marshal-baiting and decided to go along with the peace offering. “Yeah, Marshal...'let by-gone's be by-gone's' as they say. We're all on the same side now.”  

“Oh...heaven help me!” Morrison cursed and he stood there looking pissed off and totally unwilling to join the group at the table.  

His decision was made for him however when the other inhabitants of the saloon saw the opportunity for a truce and no more gun-play and took advantage of it. Two of the saloon gals came sashaying forward and taking the marshal by the arms started to lead him over to the table. Morrison went along with it as far as returning his gun to its holster but that was about it.  

“That sounds like a real good idea, Marshal!” one of them was saying. “No need for all this silly gun-play.”   
    
“Yeah!” piped in the other. “You boys just make up and play nice. Here ya' go Marshal—you just sit yourself down right there and I'll go get ya' the best beer we got—on the house! I'll bring ya' your own bowl of nuts too!”  

“I think there's enough 'nuts' at the table already...” Morrison mumbled under his breath.  

“In fact; you can all have a round on the house!” the bartender announced having missed the marshal's comment. “So long as ya' keep things civil—how's that!?”  

“That sounds real fine, barkeep,” Jed agreed. “Free round for the table!”   

“I'm willing!” Heyes seconded, quite happy to go along now that Wheat was back to his old surely self.   

“Ya'!” Kyle was ginning again. “I don't mind some of the best in the house neither!”  

Wheat and Morrison sat and glared at one another.    
Next thing, everybody jumped and all eyes were turned to the entrance as three sheriffs and a lawyer put in a hasty appearance through the bat wing doors.   
    
“What in tarnation is going on in here!?” Sheriff Turner demanded to know.  

“Oh howdy, Sheriff!” Heyes stood up with a dimpled smile and greeted the local law man. “Haven't seen you in ages and then all of a sudden I'm seein' ya' twice in one day....!"  
    
“Never mind that, Heyes!” Lom growled at him. “Can't we leave you fellas alone for five minutes without all hell breaking loose!?”  

Heyes looked hurt. “Nothing's goin' on, Lom...”  

“Don't give me that!” Lom cut him off. “We all heard gun fire coming from in here. What have you been doing! And how come Wheat's bleedin'!?”   

All eyes turned to Wheat. The ex-outlaw shifted uncomfortably and brought his left hand over to try and hide the blood stains on his shirt.   

“Ahh...this was nothin',” Wheat mumbled. “Just an accident.”  

“AN ACCIDENT?” Turner was incredulous.   
    
“Yeah,” Morrison rumbled from his chair and turned to look back at the new arrivals. “An accident. You have a problem with that—Sheriff?”   

Four jaws dropped in surprise.   
    
“Oh! Marshal Morrison.” Turner was still somewhat incredulous. Lom looked suspicious. “I didn't realize you were in here. You substantiate that nothin' was goin' on here?”   
    
“Yeah,” the marshal grudgingly agreed. “Everything's fine, Sheriff.”   
    
Turner sighed deeply and looked around at all the men seated at the table. He was met with numerous innocent expressions. “Alright, fine. If you're all agreed.”  

“Yessir, Sheriff,” Heyes smiled. “Don't want to be causing no trouble in this town.”   
    
“That's right, Sheriff,” the Kid agreed. “We was just celebratin'. Things just got outa hand a little.”   
    
The barkeep put in an appearance, quickly followed by the two gals all of them loaded down with filled to the brim beer mugs and bowls of nuts for their patrons. The refreshments were dished out and the servers made a discreet exit from the scene. The three sheriffs and the lawyer watched them go and then turned eyes back to the men at the table.   
    
“Okay,” Turner nodded. “Just be more careful with your celebrating. And you....” pointing a finger at Wheat. “just be sure the doc gets a look at that before ya' get too drunk.”  

“Yessir, Sheriff. I'll be sure to do that.”   
     
Turner turned and walked out of the saloon but the other two sheriffs and the lawyer stood stock still and eyed the men at the table. Everyone but Morrison smiled back. Morrison sat glaring down at the table with a snarl on his lips but even he had calmed down enough to know that he'd best keep his mouth shut.  He could be in for a nasty reprimand from his boss if it was found out that he'd taken a pot shot at a legal citizen inside a crowded saloon.     
The silence weighted heavy until the tinny piano picked up its tune again and the usual chatter got going and the roulette wheel got spinning and it was ops normal.

The two sheriffs looked at each other and Lom stepped forward and put a hand on Heyes' shoulder.  “I'm gonna be wanting a word with you two about this in the morning,” he told them.   
    
Heyes swallowed nervously.   
    
Kid smiled. “Sure thing, Lom.”   
    
“Whatever you say, Lom,” Heyes added.  
     
Lom glanced over at Wheat and Kyle and those two worthy gentlemen smiled back and raised their beer mugs in a toast.   
    
“Uh huh,” Lom commented. “See ya' in the morning, boys.”  

Lom and Jacobs locked eyes and they both turned and headed back outdoors.

Steven stood where he was for a moment and then smiled at his two friends.  “You do realize that anything you boys say to me can be held in complete confidence,” he hinted. 

“We sure do, Steven.” Heyes smiled back at him. “And we thank you for that.”   
    
“So any time you want to discuss anything....anything at all...”  

“Yup.” Kid raised his glass. “You'll be the first we come to, Steven.”   
    
Steven nodded then burst out laughing. “Alright!” he said. “I'll see you in the morning. Just stay outa trouble will ya'? My wife would have my hide if I let anything happen to her sister's fiance right before their wedding!”  

“So what are you two plannin' on doin' now that you're all fine and legal?” Morrison growled over at Wheat and Kyle.  
     
“I thought maybe I'd come and be your new deputy, Marshal—kinda keep things in the family,” Wheat threw back at him. “Looks like ya' might be needin' a hand with things.”   

Heyes snorted into his beer while Morrison simply sent the older outlaw a mean glare.  

“That's what we was plannin' on discussin' here this evening, Marshal,” Jed piped in while Heyes got his breath back. “Set these two fellas up to do something legal and wholesome like...”   

Heyes choked on his beer again and this time the dirty looks were sent his way. Heyes waved their scepticism away. “Sorry,” he croaked. “Wrong way.”   
    
“Yeah, that'll be the day any of you low-life's get into something wholesome,” Morrison prophisized and took a swig from his own glass. “Still, I gotta admit; you'd probably fit right in with being an undercover detective Heyes. If there's ever a profession that needs a lying, low-down conning card sharp it'd be that one. You'd be a natural.”   
    
“Well thank you, Marshal,” Heyes grinned, flashing his dimples. “I'm sure you didn't mean it as such, but I'll take that as a compliment.”  

“You take it any way you want,” Morrison told him as he stood up. “Just stay outa my town—the whole lot of ya'. Stay away from me.” He turned and walked out of the saloon as the boys sat solemnly and watched him go.   
    
“No problem,” Kid commented quietly and everyone nodded agreement.   
    
“So, Wheat...” Heyes began once the marshal was well and truly gone. “How about it? Mr. Jordan could use a couple of extra hands this time of year. He's got lots of beeves to move and a number of young horses to be broke out. Ole' Deke and Sam could really use the help going through the summer.”   

“Yeah, ah....I donno, Heyes,” Wheat didn't look too excited at that prospect. “I don't seem to be too good at the heavy work no more.” He and Kyle elbowed each other and snorkelled at their private joke.   

“You was never into heavy work Wheat!” Kyle teased him with a big toothy grin. “That's why we's outlaws!”   

“Well now, 'were' outlaws,” Kid corrected him.  

“Oh well, yeah,” Wheat agreed, sobering quickly. “'Were' outlaws. But still, I just don't seem to be able to handle any of that stuff anymore. I'm not even sure if I'd be much good to ya' doing that undercover work. Tracking down Mitchell done near done me in.”    
    
“I don't think our usual cases will be that extreme,” Heyes ventured. “A lot of it might just be sitting around saloons and listening to gossip—that sort of thing. Fellas will open up and talk after they've had a few and they think that you're of like-mind.”   

“Sittin' around saloons?” Wheat asked suddenly brightening up. “Wull that don't sound too bad.” 

“Yeah, we do that real well!” Kyle agreed, his blue eyes sparkling.   
    
“Yeah,” Heyes reiterated. “It'll probably be Kid doing most of the real leg work.”   
    
“Huh?” Jed suddenly looked suspicious. “I'm gonna be a married man remember? I can't go traipsing off for months at time. What kind of a husband and father does that?”   
    
“Well somebody's gotta do it,” Heyes pointed out reasonably. “We all know I can't. I won't be allowed to go anywhere.”   
    
“That's not true, Heyes,” Jed countered him. “Just so long as you let Lom and Jacobs know where ya' are and what you're doin'.”    
    
“Like a dog on a leash ya' mean!” Heyes complained. “Lawmen breathin' down my neck—kinda hard to stay discreet under those conditions.”   

“Aww c'mon! It ain't that hard, Heyes,” Curry continued to push. “With all your talents for deception I have no doubt in your ability to pull it off.”   
     
“All I'm sayin' is...”

“Wasn't we suppose to be discussin' the problem of our current employment?” Wheat finally cut in on the bantering. Experience had shown him that those two could keep this up for hours if given a free rein.  

“Oh yeah,” Heyes turned serious as he took another swallow of beer. “Well, if not ranch work then what...?”   

“Well, ah....we was thinkin' of heading up into California fer a spell,” Wheat informed his former bosses. “Get some easy work where it's warm and dry for a change. That doc who treated me when I got so sick while trailin' Mitchell—he said the ocean air would be good for me.”   

“Oh,” Heyes looked disappointed. “I don't know, Wheat. The terms of your amnesty state that you gotta be available to work for us.”   

“No, no, I know.” Wheat nodded. “Ah, we'll be back for Kid's weddin' in a couple of months and we'll be all set to come and work for ya', if yer ready for us by then, that is.”    
    
“Yeah,” Kyle nodded his agreement. “I'm really lookin' forward to Kid's weddin'!”   

“That's good,” Kid piped in. “I was beginning to think you were gonna miss it. But California's a long ways to go just to have ta' turn around and come right back again. Why don't ya' just stay here and help out at the ranch like Heyes suggested? We'll make sure that Deke don't work ya' too hard. And you're good with horses.”    
    
“Yeah,” Wheat sat back and considered. He and Kyle exchanged looks. “I suppose that might be alright. See how it goes anyway.”   

“Good!” Heyes slapped the table with his hand and raised his beer in a toast. “To good honest work!”    
    
“Uh huh.”    
   
   
   
Much later that night, Heyes and Jed were casually making their way back to the hotel when Heyes allowed his irritation come forth.  

“What did you go and do that for?” he asked his partner.  

Jed looked at him, confused. “What?”   
     
“Invite Morrison to sit with us,” Heyes grumbled. “Bad enough we're on the same side now, but to actually sit down and share a beer with him...?”

“It calmed things down didn't it?” Jed pointed out. “Remember I'm the one he forced to identify all those bodies after the ambush. That was one of the worse days of my life—I know I'm never gonna forget it.”   

“Yeah,” Heyes agreed soberly.  
     
“I got just as much reason to hate that man as you do,” Jed continued. “But if we're gonna be working for the law now...well, Morrison is the law and we better learn how to play along.” 

“He had no right to come in there and shoot Wheat.” 

“No, he didn't,” Jed agreed. “But where do you think you'd be right now if'n I'd let you shoot down a U.S. marshal?”   

“Right back in the same jail where this all started.”  

“Yup,” Jed agreed again. “There would go your pardon and probably Wheat's amnesty too.” Kid grinned wickedly. “And I think Morrison knows he messed up comin' at Wheat like that and he knows that we know. I bet that's gonna stick in his craw, him messin' up like that in front 'a us!”   
    
Heyes grinned in the darkness. “When the hell did you get so smart Kid?”   

“Always have been, Heyes. Always have been.”     
   
   
As it turned out, Wheat and Kyle decided to head back to Porterville with Lom for the time being. Lom thought it would be a good idea to keep the two new ex-outlaws under his surveillance for awhile, at least until they found their footing—and some jobs. Lom figured he could keep the boys busy helping out at the livery or the mercantile although Kyle's inability to read might create a bit of a dilemma. Still, Lom had mumbled; Martha would probably take the little ex-con under her wing and start teaching him to read! Patience of an angle—that woman!    
The train ride back into Colorado was a little strained since Jacobs knew damn well that 'something' had transpired over at the saloon the previous evening and our two boys knew just as well that they were not going to change their story. Finally the sheriff decided to let it go and accept their version at face value. Besides, Morrison himself had backed it up so there was no real point in pushing it. 

“What are you fellas planning on doing once we get back home?” Jacobs finally asked just to get some conversation going.  

“Oh! Ahh....” Heyes shrugged and looked over at Jed. “I donno. Head back out to the ranch I suppose. Always something to do there.”  

“Hmm,” Jacobs nodded and also looked over at Jed.  

“Ahhmm...” Jed was at a loss. “Just like Heyes says. Always lots to do on a ranch. Besides, I think the ladies are busy with weddin' plans and all. Jeesh...” he commented, suddenly looking very serious. “The weddin's two months off but there always seems to be so much to do to get prepared for it. I thought all I needed was a suit and all Beth needed was a dress—but noooo! There's the bridal shower and the luncheons and the 'coming to' outfit and the 'gettin' married' outfit and then there's the 'goin' away' outfit! I swear! No wonder people only plan on gettin' married once in their lifetime—it's enough to wear a man out just thinkin' about it!”

Steven snorted. “Just wait until the first baby is due. Good Lord! Suddenly the house is filled with clamouring women bringing boxes of swaddling blankets, bathing blankets, sleeping blankets, bonnets, baby clothes, baby toys. Hand me downs for next year when the infant outgrows all the things they brought in the first place! I swear it's a mad house.”  

Jed looked at him incredulously. “And you wanna have another one?”  

Steven grinned. “Well, yeah. Why not?”  

Jed held up his hands in surrender and laughed. “No, nothin'! Just sayin'!”  

Jacobs glanced over at an uncharacteristically quiet Hannibal and thought for an instant to ask him if his plans to marry Mrs. Stewart were definitely off and then wisely decided to keep his mouth shut on that matter. Heyes hadn't made any public announcement concerning his marital status and considering his mood when he had received the news about his parole it was probably best to let sleeping dogs lie.    
Steven carried on home to be with his wife and daughter while Heyes, Kid and Jacobs disembarked at the station in Brookswood to carry on with their 'busy' schedule.  

“Howdy Sheriff,” Deputy Morin greeted the travellers. “Good trip?”  

“Hey there Joe,” Jacobs responded. “It was fine. No problems.”  

“Morning Joe,” Kid nodded to him.

Heyes just smiled and didn't say anything. Joe was still too much of a reminder to Heyes of his friend, the Doc and the fact that Heyes had yet to pay his respects to that deceased gentleman. Joe smiled quietly at the other man's discomfort, knowing full well where it was coming from.  

“Heyes,” Joe greeted him. “Everything go alright for your friend?”  

“Oh yeah,” Heyes answered him with a quick smile. “Other than the bullet wound in his arm, that is.”  

“Bullet wound....?”  

“I'll tell you all about it over lunch, Joe,” Jacobs assured him. “It turned out to be a very interesting evening, didn't it boys?” And the sheriff sent a knowing look over at the two miscreants. “C'mon, Joe, lets head over to the cafe. I don't know about you but I'm hungry...” 

“Well, Heyes...” Jed clapped his friend on the back. “kinda' early for a beer but Beth asked me to drop in at the tailor's before heading back to the ranch; just to make sure everything is going along as planned—you know....want to come along?”   

“Ahh, no,” Heyes declined as his eyes seemed inexplicably drawn towards the milliner's shop. “No, you go ahead Kid. I'll meet up with you in about an hour or so.” He smiled. “Won't be too early for a beer then.”  

“Yeah, okay,” Jed agreed. “See ya' in an hour at the saloon.”  

 

   
Sheriff Jacobs strode purposefully towards the stranger, whose grey eyes turned to observe the approaching lawman. 

“Can I help you?”

The sheriff nodded.  “I sure hope so.  You’ve been hanging around town for a couple of days now.  Do you mind telling me what your business is in Brookswood?”  He looked the stranger up and down, carefully noting the fustian work wear and scuffed boots.

“I see you’re sizing me up.”  The man thrust out a hand, inviting a handshake.  “Valentine Bamforth, and I take it that you are the local law enforcement?”  

“The name’s Jacobs.  What brings you to Brookswood, Mr. Bamforth?”

The man’s face brightened into a friendly smile.  “Don’t let my clothes fool you, sheriff.  I am a professional man.  I dress like this for digging up soil samples.”

“Soil samples?” 

Bamforth nodded.  “I am a prospector, not your usual kind, but a speculator.  If I find the right kind of deposits I will look to purchase land to mine.”  

The sheriff’s cynical scrutiny indicated that he was clearly not buying the explanation.  “And you can prove this?”

Bamforth’s brows gathered in curiosity.  “I sure can, but why?  I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“You’re a stranger in town, one who has spent a lot of time hanging around and asking questions.  That tends to attract the attention of a good lawman.” 

Bamforth nodded.  “Well, I’m glad to see that; the chances are good that I might be purchasing some land around here.  For the record my ‘hanging around’ is my way of establishing who lives where, who owns what, and to generally get the lay of the land.”  

“And why would you need that?” 

“To get the cheapest price for the most promising land of course.”  Bamforth smiled.  “If I know someone’s desperate to sell I’ll pitch the price lower than I would if somebody’s well set up.  Business, you know.”  

Jacobs nodded.  “You say you can prove all of this?”  

“Sure can,” Bamforth looked confused.  “I just don’t really understand why I need to.”  

“As I said, you’ve been hanging around asking questions and today you rode out to both the Double J. and the neighboring Johnson place.”  

“Yeah, for soil samples.  If I find what I’m looking for, I’ll offer a fair price.”  

“Then there’s nothing to worry about, Mr. Bamforth.  I’m only interested in strangers behaving suspiciously in my town.  If you are who you say you are, nobody will bother you.”  

Bamforth pulled off his scruffy hat and ran a hand through hair like the ashes of a discarded fire.  “Come on.  All my papers are in the hotel – along with my mother.”   
    
Jacob’s eyebrows arched in surprise.  “Your mother?”  

“Yeah, how many itinerant criminals bring an old lady along?”  Bamforth gestured with his head.  “Come on.  Let’s meet Mama.”  
   
   
 The old lady raised a head covered in white lace and even whiter curls at the sight of her son walking into the hotel with the local lawman.  “Valentine?”  She gripped the banister, wavering on the staircase as though flailing for support.  

“Mama?”  Bamforth darted forward. “Are you ill?  There’s nothing to worry about.  The sheriff just checks out strangers in town.”  

“No, just shocked at seeing you with a sheriff.  I thought something had happened.”  

“That’s right, ma’am,” Jacobs nodded.  “I like to know what’s going on and who’s in town.”  Jacobs proffered an arm in support.  “Let me help you.”   

The matron delicately took the sheriff’s arm, her bird-like frame almost weightless against him.  

She patted the lawman’s hand with a fluttering lightness.  “I’m sorry for my reaction, but the only time I’ve seen my family with lawmen was when somebody died.  You scared me.”  

Sheriff Jacobs smiled, guiding the lady to a couch.  “No, ma’am, I just like to introduce myself to strangers in town.  There’s nothing for you to worry about.” 

Bamforth placed his mother down delicately, punching a cushion into submission before placing it behind her back.  “I think it disturbed the locals to see a scruffy man asking questions and riding about other folks’ property, Mama.  The sheriff wants to know why, and I have no problem with that.  I guess I’d want to know too if a saddle tramp started lurking about my place.  Are you settled now?”  His mother nodded weakly.  “Let’s get you some tea, huh?”  

 Bamforth rooted around in a bag and pulled out a stack of papers.  “Here you go.  Banking details, letters, my company papers.  If there’s anything else you need you can get it through my lawyer, here are his details.”  

Jacobs peered at the bottles and test-tubes arranged along the dresser.  “What are these for?”

“Testing soil samples.”  Bamforth smiled enigmatically.  “I’ll only make an offer if I find what I’m looking for.”  

“And that is...?”  

“None of your business, Sheriff.  This is a very competitive game, and if any of my rivals get the whiff of anything around here the area will be full of them.”  Bamforth folded his arms.  “Are you happy now?  Can my mother and I go about our day?” 

Jacobs nodded.  “Sure - just one thing, should you be dragging your mother about the country like this?  She seems kinda delicate.”  
    
“You just shocked her, Sheriff.  I think you brought back memories of both my father’s and brother’s deaths to her.  The law turned up both times and it’s the only contact she ever had with lawmen.  She’s sheltered, is all.”  Bamforth put the papers back in his bag and snapped it shut.  “I never married and I’m all mother’s got.  She likes to come with me.” 

“But still, at her age?” 

Bamforth sighed heavily.  “What else can I do?  She wants to come.  This is a safe little town, isn’t it?”

Jacobs stared into the helpless eyes and smiled in spite of himself.  “Yeah, it’s safe enough.  There’s a ladies sewing bee meets at the church on Tuesdays.  I’m sure she’d be made very welcome.” 

“Yeah, she gets bored.  That’d be a good idea, thanks Sheriff.  I’ll suggest it.”   
   
 Valentine Bamforth smiled and waved at Sheriff Jacobs before he turned and joined the old lady in the hotel lobby.  She lowered her newspaper and peered at him over a pair of round spectacles.  “Did he buy it?”  

Bamforth nodded.  “I think so.”  His lips twitched into a grin.  “It definitely helps having you around.  Who’s going to suspect a man who takes a little, old lady everywhere with him?”    
     
“See!”  She patted the cushion beside her, urging him to sit.  “And you didn’t want me to come.  I bet you’re glad now.”  

He sat, his fingers curling around her hand before he drew it up to his lips.  “I’m always glad when you’re here.”  The grey eyes narrowed in concern.  “You really looked ill on that staircase.  Do I need to get the doctor?”  

She shook her head.  “No, I’m fine.  I was acting.” 

“Are you sure,” Valentine’s voice simmered with suspicion.  “We can’t take any chances.”  

She clasped his hand.  “I’m fine!  I promised to sit around in the background as cover and that is all I’m going to be doing.  Now, do you fancy a trip to the restaurant for a spot of lunch?” 

Valentine nodded.  “Fine, lunch.  As long as you promise to take a nap afterwards.”  

She nodded her white head.  “I will.  It’s right across the road from that hat shop, you know.  It might be interesting to see who comes and goes, don’t you think?”  
 

Heyes headed across the street and down a block until he arrived at the shop in question and then hesitated before attempting the door handle. He wasn't quite sure why he was here. He was still missing Abi so much that the last thing he felt ready for right then was a new relationship. Besides, Amy had made it quite clear that a romance was not on her agenda at all so don't even bother trying. Maybe that was it, Heyes mused to himself; the fact that she wasn't interested took the pressure off and he was able to relax in her company. Besides that, she intrigued him.    
He didn't want to think that it was something as selfish as the simple fact that she didn't want him that attracted him. He hoped there was more to it than that. Admittedly it was a rare experience for him to find a woman attractive and to have her rebuff his advances—he was accustomed to winning at that game no matter who the quarry was or how serious that flirtation.     
But surely he had grown up a bit more than that! Perhaps it was simply the desire for feminine companionship with someone who knew what it meant to lose a spouse and to be able to pick up and move on from that. But then Miranda had been through the same thing and from what Amy had said of her marriage, Miranda's had been a far more loving relationship. So obviously that wasn't the only attraction.     
Heyes nodded as he arrived at his own conclusion; he found Amy attractive right now because she was not after anything more than friendship and that's about all Heyes could emotionally handle at this point. He knew he still had feelings for Miranda, but he also knew that she wanted more than just friendship and Heyes was still too raw to give that to her. So for now; Amy it was. If she wasn't too busy that is.    
He turned the handle to push open the door and a chill went through him before his mind could even register the coincidence of the situation.    
Amy was indeed busy with a customer and that customer was none other than Miranda herself. Tricia was sitting over in the corner watching while Amy was helping the young ladies try on various different hats; presumably for the up-coming wedding. All heads turned at the opening of the door. 

“Oh! Good morning, Mr. Heyes,” Amy greeted him with a smile.  
    
Heyes cringed, the knife going through his heart. He put on a brave face and smiled at the assembly. “I'm sorry,” he apologized. “I didn't realize you had customers. I'll come back another time.”  

“Oh nonsense, Hannibal!” Tricia told him. “Come on in. We're just trying on hats.”  

“Yes, it's not like we're standing around in our petticoats,” Randa teased with a smile. “Come and join us; a man's opinion is always welcome in these matters.”  

“Oh.” Heyes smiled shyly; this wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind.   

“Yes, do come in Mr. He...oh I'm sorry! I do keep forgetting.” Amy looked contrite. “You've asked me more than once not to call you that. I'll put the kettle on for some tea while you ladies decide what you want. A nice morning tea I think would be just the thing to help us get on with our busy days.” And she disappeared to the back room to do just that.   

Heyes stepped into the shop and closed the door, feeling just a little out of place at interfering with this feminine tradition. Still, none of the ladies seemed to mind his presence so he settled himself in a chair by the table where Tricia was sitting. Miranda was still standing and looking with serious contemplation at her reflection in the mirror.   
    
“What do you think?” she asked anyone. “This blue one, or the yellow?”   
    
“Since you haven't decided which dress you're going to wear yet, it's rather difficult to say which hat,” Tricia pointed out.   

“I'll probably decide the dress depending on which hat I choose.”   

Both ladies then looked over to Heyes with raised brows. Heyes looked from one to the other feeling totally out of his element.  

“Umm...” Heyes adopted a reflective countenance in order to buy some time; he had absolutely no idea. “Well, that blue one is very nice.” He smiled as an epiphany hit him. “It brings out the colours in your eyes!”  

“Yes, true,” Randi agreed, also buying for time. She didn't quite know what to make of this. Her heart had given a sudden leap when she had turned to see Hannibal walk into the shop. She had always tried to be prepared for those occasions when she might run into him out on the street, but the hat shop was the last place she had expected him to turn up and she had been caught with her guard down.    
She had been a little disappointed when Hannibal had returned to Brookswood but had made no point of coming to visit, in fact, he had done just the opposite. Hannibal and Jed had met up with David for a social drink, but had avoided coming to the house altogether. She understood, of course she did; she'd been there herself. That ache of missing someone who was gone forever; it overwhelms and cancels out all other thought and emotion. The last thing Hannibal needed now was some woman pushing for a new relationship. That Isabelle was such a fool, absolutely no finesse at all!    
Miranda was willing to sit back and wait until Hannibal was ready to make contact but in the meantime, it still hurt that he apparently didn't even want her as a friend. Maybe he just didn't know what he wanted yet so she had resolved herself to give him time. Now here he was showing up totally unexpectedly at the milliner's, looking just as handsome as ever and drawing her eyes to him like a butterfly to the spider's web.    
She turned back with a quiet sigh to the mirror and pulled out the hat pin with fingers that trembled with the emotional shock of seeing him like this. And why was he in the milliner's shop in the first place? She hadn't missed the smile that came to Amy's face when she had spotted him and she hated herself for allowing it hurt so much.  

“Well how about this one?” she asked as she removed the blue hat and picked up the yellow one. “What do you think of this?”  

She turned again and faced Heyes, a bright smile on her lips and a sparkle in her eye. Heyes met her gaze and felt his breath catch in his chest, as though someone had just knocked the wind out of him. She was so pretty and when she looked at him like that he felt confusion wash over him again. That conflict of two such extreme emotions; those of devastating hurt and loss vying for the upper hand over attraction and arousal.

He swallowed and smiled winningly. “The yellow...” Quick cough, for some reason his throat had tightened up on him. “Ah, the yellow one compliments your hair.” 

“Yes!” Amy agreed as she entered the room with a tray full of tea cups and accessories. “That's been the dilemma all along. The blue one goes nicely with her eyes, but the yellow brings out the richness in her dark hair. Either one suits your skin tones though, Mrs. Thornton, so it really is going to depend on which dress you chose! Oh, sit down Hannibal!” Amy expostulated as Heyes stood up to take the tray from her. “You're a guest here, sit down and I'll pour the tea.”  

Miranda sighed as she turned back to the mirror. “Yes. I just don't know!” she complained with some frustration. “We need to come up with a tie-breaker.”  

“Well you think on it and let me know,” Amy advised her. “In the meantime, come and have some tea before you carry on with your busy day.”  

“Oh yes! Thank you,” Randa agreed.  

She and Tricia exchanged knowing smiles and Miranda settled herself into a chair beside Hannibal while Amy poured the tea and got everyone situated. She sat down herself then, beside Tricia and picking up her cup she took a deep appreciative breath of the aroma and closed her eyes with a smile.  
    
“Oh I so love a good cup of tea,” she announced rather needlessly. “There are so many different moods you can produce—or inhibit, with just the right blending of leaves. It truly is God's miracle brew!' She laughed at the three looks that were coming back at her. “Oh! Don't mind me! It's just a passion of mine!” she told them. “Come, back to discussion on hats! How shall we break the stalemate?”  

“Well...” Miranda sighed. “process of elimination I suppose. Are you settled on the green one, Tricia?”   
    
“Yes, I think so,” Tricia assured her. “It will go very nicely with my peach frock with the green lace. It's as though the two were made for each other!”  

“What will you be wearing, Hannibal?” Randa asked and then tried to retract the question with a hand to her mouth. “Oh dear, I've done it again!”  

“What?” Heyes asked.   
    
Randa smiled a little abashedly. “I didn't mean to imply that we would be going together. I'm just curious—perhaps it will give me some ideas.”   

“Oh.” Heyes nodded and sipped his tea. “I suppose I'll be wearing the dark gray suit that Abi...ah, that I picked up last month.”   
    
All three ladies smiled, none of them having missed the minor slip-up or the flash of sadness that had made it's way past Heyes' defences.    
    
“Dark gray,” Amy repeated thoughtfully. “Hmm, what about your tie? What colour will that be?”   
    
Heyes shrugged. “Black, I suppose.” And then was shocked at the reaction he received.  

“Oh no!”

“No, no! Not black!”  

“Not to a wedding, Hannibal,” Amy chided him. “Especially since you will be standing up with your friend.” She became thoughtful again. “Mr. Curry is going to be wearing a dark blue tie to complement his young lady's choices. I can give you a sample of the same material and colour that I gave to him and I'm sure the tailor can make you a lovely tie that will complement the bride and groom!” 

“Oh.” Heyes smiled as he recalled the Kid complaining on the train about how there was so much more to this wedding stuff than he'd ever imagined. Heyes was beginning to understand what he meant. “Alright. I hadn't thought of that.”   

“That's why I'm here,” Amy teased and reaching over gave Heyes a playful pat on the hand. “I'll make sure the whole bridal party is presented appropriately.”  

Heyes grinned. The exchange had not been lost on Miranda, or Tricia for that matter.  
     
“Well, I guess that settles it then!” Miranda suddenly announced, bringing all eyes back to her. “I'll take the blue hat!” 

“A wonderful choice,” Amy nodded.  “I’ll get you a box.  It goes so well with your eyes.  Maybe you’ll come back and get the yellow one on another occasion?”  

Randa raised an appraising eyebrow.  “You really are quite the saleswoman, Mrs. Oliphant.  You manage to push yourself without being too obvious.  That’s quite a skill.”   
    
The two women exchanged a lingering look which was completely lost on Heyes.  
    
“Thank you, but I like to think the hats sell themselves,” Amy replied.  
    
“Oh, they do, dear,” Randa retorted with a smile.  “Your talents go beyond simple millinery.”   
    
Amy sighed, glancing at Heyes before looking Randa straight in the eyes.  “I’m fixed on my new business, Mrs.Thornton.  I’m just beginning to see a life ahead after I lost my husband.”  Amy turned sharply and left the front shop.  

“She’s a recent widow?” Randa asked, full of concern.  “I didn’t know.” 

Heyes nodded.  “Fairly.  She’s still pretty raw too.”  

“Oh!  She’s not wearing black, or even grey.  I’d never have guessed.”  
    
Heyes shrugged.  “Maybe it’s not so great for a new business, especially one like this?  Maybe she needs to look cheerful and sunny.”  
    
Amy reappeared bearing a large round box covered in an ornate floral design. 

Randa frowned.  “Mrs. Oliphant, I had no idea you were still mourning.  I’m sorry.”   
     
Amy shook her head, but didn’t meet Randa’s deep-blue gaze.  “I’m not, so much, as just taking the first few steps alone.  It’s...”

“Scary?” Randa suggested, gently.  

“Yes,” Amy placed the hat inside the box, covering it over with delicate tissue paper.  “At times it is.”   Her eyes darted up to Randa’s.  “But I don’t want sympathy, all I want is a fresh start,” her voice dropped, adding extra emphasis as she glanced at Heyes.  “And that’s ALL I want.”  

“Of course,” Randa looked slightly embarrassed.  “I didn’t mean...” 

Amy cut her off.  “Of course, you didn’t.”  She tied off the ribbon on the box and smiled.  “Your hat.”  Randa opened her bag to pay while Amy boxed up the green hat for Tricia in a beautiful box covered in pink candy stripes.  The little cash register rattled closed as the purchases were completed.  “Do come again.” 

Randa hesitated.  “Hannibal?”  

Heyes stared at her as though struck dumb.  Randa was a wonderful person, but right now he felt unable to face her.  Things were simpler with Amy, and somehow the rawness of her pain echoed his own.  What did they call it?  Tea and sympathy?  Randa would only offer kind words and warmth, but maybe he had to talk to somebody who had nothing to gain from Abi’s departure. Why was nothing ever easy for him?  

“I expect you’re here for Belle and Beth’s order?”  Amy arched her brows.  “They did warn me to expect you.  I have to finish off the feathers and then box it up.  Would you care for some more tea while you wait?”   

Heyes nodded gratefully.  “That’d be great.”  

Randa bit into her lip.  “I haven’t had the chance to see you since you got back.”  

“I’ve been busy.  You know, catching up on things I’d neglected and now the wedding,” Heyes gave her a rueful smile.  “I’ll catch up with you soon.”  

“I’m sorry about Abi.”  Randa’s eyes glistened with emotion.  “Really I am.”  

“Me too,” Heyes replied, simply.  “Soon, Randa, I promise.  I just need to clear my head first.”    
   
Randa nodded as Tricia laid a hand on his shoulder, the tightening fingers signalling her empathy.  “Come and see us when you are ready.  We’ll look forward to it.”  Tricia patted him gently, “and in the meantime, if you need anything, you know where we are.”  

The bell above the door jangled and the two women left.   

 Amy’s blue eyes met Heyes’ brown.  “I do hope I wasn’t out of line there.  I sensed you wanted some space.”  

“I guess I did.”  Heyes gave her a watery smile, unable to articulate that it was her company he sought.  “I thought I’d take you up on the offer for some tea, but I didn’t bank on anyone else being here.” 

Amy walked over to the door back shop.  “How nice.  Shall I put the water on to boil again?  I can turn the sign so we have privacy?  It’s nearly lunchtime.”  

Heyes took a deep breath, his mind buzzing.  Why was he here?  “Yeah, Amy.  That’d be great.”  

Amy gave him a beaming smile and disappeared into the darkness of the doorway.  “Fine.  How does Darjeeling sound?”  

“Like gibberish,” Heyes replied with a frown.  “What is it?”  

Amy popped her head around the door frame.  “Tea.  It’s Indian.”  

“Indian?  They have tea?” 

Amy’s lips twitched into a smile.  “Not that kind of Indian.  It’s from India.  You know, where all the elephants and silk comes from.  It’s lovely, try some.” 

Heyes nodded.  “Sure, anything will do.”  

Amy’s blue eyes twinkled with a knowing glint.  “Oil on troubled waters, so to speak?  I’ll be right back.”  

Heyes sat, listening to her clatter about in the shadows of the back shop, the piercing whistle of the tea kettle and the chinking of china cups.  She re-entered the front shop bearing two cups sitting on matching saucers.  Amy handed him one and sat beside him with an air of expectancy.  “So how have you been?”  

“Down, and I feel like a heel because of it.”  

Amy’s slim eyebrows rose in question.  “Any particular reason?”  

“A friend just got amnesty.  I just got back from there.” 

“Isn’t that a good thing?”  

Heyes heaved a heartfelt sigh.  “His parole restrictions let him do most things, so he can work as a private detective.  He can mix with criminals, use a false name, even be at the scene of a crime,” Heyes shrugged.  “Yet they won’t relax mine enough to allow me to live quietly somewhere with the woman I’ve loved for over fifteen years.”    
    
Amy’s brow creased.  “Why can’t she live here?”  

Heyes hesitated.  “Somebody had a campaign against us, trying to hurt everyone we cared for.”  
    
“So?”  Amy tilted her head.  “You said, ‘had.’  Is that still going on?”  

“No,” Heyes grimaced, “well, kinda.  We think ‘accidents’ might be planned.  Abi won’t risk our daughter being anywhere near that - so she’s gone.  I’ve lost her.  I’ve lost both of them.” 

Amy frowned, staring at him intensely.  “What makes you think accidents might be planned?”  

Heyes shook his head dismissively.  “Does it matter?  We just do.”  

Amy bit into her lip.  “That’s tough.  Do you really love her?”  

Heyes nodded.  “Yeah.” 

“That’s worse than bereavement.  At least I know that Frank would still be with me if he was here.  Knowing that she’s out there and that she can’t be with you must be torture.”  Amy stared into the intense, dark eyes.  “I’m so sorry.  How can I help?” 

“Nobody but the governor can help.  You still hurt, but you’ve found a way to deal with it.  Is it getting better?  How do you do it?” 

Amy sipped thoughtfully at her tea.  “Keep busy.”  She cast a hand around the shop, looking proudly up at the new display unit filling one wall.  “Do you see that?  Brand new, all ready for use.  Vincent Cramond built that for me, and now I have to fill it with hats of every hue.  It’s very therapeutic, and every single one is a step to a new life.  What do you have which could perform that role in your life?”

“There’s helping with the wedding, and keeping the Double J running while the Kid is away,” Heyes shrugged.  “After that, who knows?”  

“You don’t have a plan for the future?  Do you want to work on a ranch all your life?”  

“No,” Heyes replied, firmly.  “I had planned to run a detective agency, but without Abi it doesn’t seem worth it.”  

Amy put her cup down.  “If you don’t mind me saying so, that’s more than a little defeatist.  You surprise me, Hannibal.  I would have thought the great outlaw leader would have been a lot more proactive than that.  A detective agency sounds like a wonderful idea.  What have you done about it?  Have you premises, staff, or any cases?” 

“I’ve got staff, kind of... nothing else.” 

Amy nodded.  “Well then, what do you need to do first?  Can you start a case without premises?”

“I guess...” 

“There you go.  Get yourself a case.”  Amy pouted thoughtfully.  “How does one go about doing that?  It’s not exactly like arranging hats in a shop window.”  She smiled.  “I don’t think you can just sit in a shop window with a magnifying glass; that would be a fire hazard on a sunny day.”  Her eyebrows rose, watching him carefully.  “There’s very little quiet in that quiet face of yours,” she murmured.  “What’s the first obstruction?  What are you thinking right now?”  

“I need to help my best friend get ready for something I can never have, and it hurts like hell.  All this talk of weddings is rubbing salt in the wound.” 

Amy reached out and lightly patted the back of his hand.  “I’m sure he understands that.  I take it you wouldn’t have it any other way?  You can’t back off?” 

“No.  I promised him and he delayed the wedding so I could be there.” 

“Then you must, but you do realize you don’t have to enjoy it.  Look on it as a duty, and then any enjoyment you have will be an extra.”  

Heyes frowned.  “A duty?  The Kid’s wedding is more than a duty.”  

Amy’s smile widened.  “You see?  You have already got one thing in perspective.  This is a wonderful, loving thing to be engaged in.   It will be difficult at times, but I’m sure he knows that.  Talk to him when you are finding things difficult and allow him to support you, but enjoy the rest of it. Take things one step at a time.”  

“Somebody else gave me advice like that once.”  Heyes’ face dimpled into a grin.  “I knew there was a reason I came here today.  Thanks, Amy.”  

“You are very welcome.”  Her tone rose in question.  “So it was me you came to see?   Not Mrs. Thornton?” 

“I didn’t know Randa would be here.”  Heyes put his now empty cup beside Amy’s.  “I can’t face her right now.”  

“May I ask why?”  

“I was seeing her when Abi came back into my life.  Now I’m free again, who knows?”  Heyes shook his head.  “She’s probably expecting me to pick things up where they left off.  How can I tell her I can’t face a relationship yet?” 

“How?”  Amy hooked him with a determined stare.  “The same way I told you, and her.  Just be honest.”  Her eyes turned pensive.  “In any case, how do you know she wants to pick things up again?  You haven’t asked her.  She may even have met someone else for all you know.” 

Heyes’ eyes widened with surprise.  “Why?  Do you think she has?  I haven’t heard anything.”  

“From the way she was looking at you I doubt she has, but she seems to be a lovely woman.  Talk to her, and tell her how you feel – the pressure will be off then.  She’s no Isabelle, she not a predator.  A woman can tell.”  

Heyes chuckled ruefully.  “What would I do without you?” 

“Buy hats mail order?” Amy suggested, brightly.  She stood collecting the cups, and bustled towards the back shop.  “Not that I can see you in any of my summer bonnets.  Flowers are quite the thing this year.  Silver conchos on leather won’t be on any of my designs.” 

Heyes followed her, leaning on the door frame.  “I guess you don’t want anything from me, it makes visiting here uncomplicated.” 

Amy’s light, musical giggle floated in the air.  “Don’t I?  Keep standing in the shop.  Seven women stopped and stared in while you were here, and Mrs. Thornton even walked by trying to look inconspicuous.  The kind of attention you attract does me no harm at all.  I have no doubt they’ll all be in here once you’ve gone, trying to find out what we’ve been talking about.”  

“Oh, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to give you a reputation.”  

Amy glanced over her shoulder, washing the cups before placing them on the draining board.  “Don’t worry, they know you’re safely tucked up, out of town every night and this shop is practically a public place because of the enormous window, so they know we’ve not been up to anything.”  She picked up a tea towel.  “Mrs. Thornton, however?  She may be another matter entirely.  To walk past here right after she’d left speaks loudly of a woman checking up on you.”  

“I’m sorry,” Heyes repeated. 

“Don’t be.  I’ll sell something to every single one of them when they come in investigating.  I’ll take all the help I can get while I’m starting out,” Amy chuckled.  “Now, can I help you with anything else?”  

“Not today.”

She nodded.  “Until next time?” 

“Yeah,” Heyes headed over to the door, unlocking it, “next time.”  His dark eyes softened.  “Thanks, Amy.  I appreciate a kind ear.  If I can ever return the favor, just ask.”  

Her eyes twinkled with mischief.  “I told you.  Tell all the ladies in town you find them irresistible in a new hat.”    
   
   
Heyes made his way back towards the saloon to meet up with the Kid. He walked with head down and hands in pockets, a contemplative frown upon his face; he really didn't know what to make of that encounter. Amy had been pleasant as always and obviously enjoyed having visitors stop by for tea and chatter. Miranda had been kind and a little playful which had always made Heyes smile when talking with her; there was no topic she wasn't willing to discuss and no question she wasn't willing to ask! She was intriguing and smart and fun to be with. Tricia had sat quietly on the most part, sipping her tea and casting glances back and forth and hither taking in the dynamics of the three other people seated at the table.    
In one way Heyes was relieved when the small gathering had broken up as he kind of felt like the odd man out and that each lady had their own agenda. Normally he would have had fun playing that game, but not now, not today. He just didn't have the energy anymore. Though in another way he had felt reluctant to leave the company of the ladies, though he wasn't sure which lady he wanted the company of the most.    
Tricia of course wasn't even in the running. He certainly liked her well enough as a friend, but obviously she was not a contender.    
Amy's company he felt comfortable and relaxed with and her bubbly personality helped bolster his spirits and she really was helping him to develop a taste for tea! He'd never realized there were so many different types and they did indeed give energy or encourage relaxation, depending on the blend that was brewed! No wonder Belle enjoyed a cup after her busy day. Maybe he should talk to Amy about suggesting a night time tea to help him sleep, Abi had often mentioned that a cup of tea would help him to relax so maybe there was something to it.    
Then there was Miranda—lovely Miranda. She was a joy to be with and her high energy and flighty speech pattern gave Heyes a run for his money in the 'silver tongue' category. At first meeting one might think that Randa was herself flighty and scatter-brained, but nothing could be farther from the truth. She was just so energetic and her mind moved so quickly that her mouth often simply could not keep up and that gave the impression that her conversation was unintelligent and pointless. But Heyes had found that if he just shut up himself and let her talk, the points she finally got around to making were insightful and well worth the high-energy meandering to get to them.    
He smiled at the memory of some of their discussions and found himself wanting to be in her company again. But he had to admit that he was afraid of moving too fast. He felt totally incapable of dealing with those emotions right now and he had to admit to feeling a certain amount of resentment at the fact that Miranda had strolled passed the hat shop, apparently 'checking up' on him.  
Dammit! He was feeling pressure from all comers; even Isabelle was circling for the kill! He and Abi had come so close; he had been certain that he would spend the rest of his life with her and Anya. And truth be known he'd thought with a slightly whimsical smile; he had been looking forward to making even more 'little Anyas' once things had settled down a bit.    
Now that assumption had been shattered and he knew there was no going back. Yet again anger took hold of him like a vice around his heart and he felt his respiration increase with the strong emotion. Why were they doing this to him? Here Jed Curry was permitted to walk around free as a bird; do and go wherever he wanted to, yet Heyes they continued to keep tied up on this short suffocating leash! Why couldn't they just leave him alone to live his life!? That was all he was asking, that was all he wanted and yet they continued to curtail him.    
He took a couple of deep breaths and tried to calm himself down. He cursed the governor for the unfairness that was being shown him but he knew that there was nothing he could do about it. At least he was out of the prison, he knew that was something to be thankful for, but life without Abi, without Anya just seemed pointless.    
In a way he was so grateful to the Kid for going ahead with the wedding plans as it gave Heyes something to focus on. It gave his mind something to look forward to rather than just wallow in self-pity as was its want these days. Jed and Beth's wedding was Heyes' anchor as well and he clung to it like a life-line; he had to or he would simply sink into the darkness of despair and perhaps never come out of it.    
He smiled to himself, almost bitterly. Hannibal Heyes; so independent. Always the leader, always the one in charge and now he couldn't even make it through everyday life without someone throwing him a life-line. In prison it had been Abi and then ultimately; Anya. Even though she hadn't been aware of it at all, his daughter had saved his life.    
Now, with Abi and Anya no longer with him, it was back to the Kid again. Jed and Beth giving him a reason to carry on, a reason to keep looking forward and to focus his mind on something positive.  
What a dilemma! Heyes couldn't even think about starting up a business now, his mind just wasn't into it but he knew he would have to do something soon. Wheat and Kyle were counting on him—again. Just like old times and he had pushed for Wheat to get an amnesty so he certainly couldn't back out of the plans now. And he wouldn't either—he knew that. He just needed some time to recover, some time for his mind and heart to stop hurting and to start being able to look ahead to his own future again. He just needed some time.  

“Heyes! Wake up!” he heard Jed's voice cut through his musings. “Jeez—where were ya'? You were just about to walk right passed me.”   

“Oh, sorry Kid,” Heyes smiled sheepishly. “Guess I was off thinking about something else.”  

“Yeah, I'll say,” Kid grinned. “You look like you're ready for that beer now!” 

Heyes grinned. “Sure am! But umm, Amy gave me this piece of material to give to the tailor so he could make me a tie to match yours.”  

“Oh yeah?” Jed's eyes danced with laughter. “Now they're gettin' you jumpin' to the band too!”  

“Yeah, I guess so.”  

“Let's go get a beer first,” Kid suggested hopefully. “Isn't today the day of your weekly poker game?”  

“Oh yeah!” Heyes had forgotten about that. “Yeah, the fellas should be here soon. Still have time for a beer first though!”  

“Good! Lets go.” Kid took Heyes by the arm as though he needed more encouragement and hurried him along to the saloon. “I can take that material thingie over the tailors later if ya' want.”  

“Sounds good...”  

 

“You're awfully quiet, Miranda,” Tricia observed. “That tells me something is brewing inside that head of yours. Still wondering about the hats?”  

“Oh good gracious no!” Randa laughed at having been caught drifting. “No. I was just thinking about our little tea party.”  

“Oh yes?” Tricia asked conspiratorially and linked her arm with her cousin's as they strolled along the boardwalk towards the grocers. “What about it?” 

Randa became reflective again and pursed her lips in consternation. “Mrs Oliphant caught me flat-footed with her rather pointed remarks concerning her lack of interest in Hannibal. But you know, now that I've had time to think about it I do believe she was deliberately trying throw me off-balance—you know, make me uncomfortable so that I would back off,” Miranda cocked an eyebrow and glanced over at her cousin with a knowing expression, “and I fell for it.  Maybe I need to take the matter in hand."    
      
Tricia chuckled. “I've never known you to be the jealous type Randa,” she teased. “Don't you think you might be reading more into it than is actually there? She is recently widowed after all and not every woman who lays eyes on Hannibal is going to be in an instant swoon. Maybe she is just looking for friendship.”  

Miranda was looking straight ahead, a perplexed expression upon her brow; she really hadn't heard a word her cousin had said. “Did you not notice how Mrs Oliphant perked up and even blushed a little when Hannibal came into the shop?” Randa carried on with a hint of suspicion in her tone. “And speaking of which; what was Hannibal doing coming into the milliner's shop in the first place? It's not like he's buying a hat for anyone. As far as I know he's not escorting a lady to the wedding. Beth already has her hat on order and so does Belle and I know for a fact that Beth isn't expecting her hat to be ready for at least another two days—so what was he doing there?    
“And you can't tell me that he wasn't looking at her with that certain kind of look either! I swear I wish that man would simply make up his mind. First he's with Abi then he's not with Abi then he's back with her again and they have a child together, then he's not with her again, then he's with me. Then he's back with Abi again, now apparently that's over and done with for ever and a day, but is he back with me? No! Now he's making eyes at the new milliner in town! What am I? Yesterdays news?   
“Yet, I don't know...he was looking at me again like he used to, like he wants to be with me but then it's as if he's laughing at me too! I just don't know what he wants. I'm trying to back off, to give him time; I know he's hurting, doesn't want to rush into anything but then there he is showing up at Mrs. Oliphant's place of business; someplace he has no business being!    
“I should just forget about him! I was doing just fine before he showed up and sent my common sense out the window. I was quite happy being in mourning for William and convincing myself that no other man could ever take his place in my heart and then HE has to show up! Well it would be all fine and dandy if HE know what in the world HE wanted!     
“Ohhhh! I should just go back home and get a job at the library!” Randa pulled her arm away from her cousin and grabbing her skirts, stomped into the grocers to take her frustrations out on the produce.  
    
“Oh dear, oh dear,” Tricia comment under her breath, and then smiled softly as she followed her cousin indoors. 

    
Vincent Cramond battered frenetically on the Gibson’s door.  It was dragged open by a shocked looking Tricia who frowned at the frantic visitor’s shocked face.  “Vincent?  What’s up?”  

“Is the doctor in?”  

“David?  Why, yes.  He’s just having breakfast.”  

“Get ‘im!  Fast, there’s been an accident.”  

“An accident?  Where?”

“The new hat shop.”  Vincent’s dark eyes peered over her shoulder at David who was dragging on his jacket and grabbing his bag.  “The new lady there.”  

“What happened to her?” David demanded.  

Vincent dropped his face into his hands.  “The new shelving unit I made for her, it’s toppled over and crushed her!”  The man’s eyes whirled with helplessness.  “I could swear I anchored it to the wall, honestly I could!  I went to do some more work for her this morning and found her there.  Oh, my god!  I’ve killed an innocent woman.  It’s real heavy.  It took three of us to lift the thing the other day."

David and Tricia exchanged a concerned glance.  “Tricia, cancel all my appointments this morning.  Vincent, let’s go.” 

To Be Continued 


	14. What's Next?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A terrible accident has everyone worried.
> 
> Heyes and Miranda's relationship grows.

 What Next?  
   
“Papa! Papa, can I come!?”  
“No, Nathaniel!” Tricia snaked out an arm and grabbed her whirlwind son just before he could disappear out the front door. “No, you stay here sweetheart. Papa has work to do.”  
“Aww! I wanna go!” the enterprising offspring complained. “I could help!”  
“Not today,” Tricia insisted. “Come on back to the table, keep Mama company. Would you like some more bacon?”  
Nathan's dark-brown eyes lit up and he quickly returned to the breakfast table. “Yes, please!”  
David was on the run with Vincent Cramond doing his best to keep up with the doctor's long-legged strides. The older man was practically in tears and shaking his head as he ran; he was certain he had secured that shelving to the wall. There's no way it could have come free that easily. How could this have happened—this was terrible! Such a fine, friendly, young woman and now such a tragedy—and it was his fault. Oh no! What was his wife going to say!?  Nobody would ever hire him again.  He’d be ruined!   
David ran up to the milliner's store front and then had to slow the pace in order to get through the crowd of spectators who had got wind of the accident and were crowding around the entrance. He groaned and started to gently but firmly push his way through.  
“Excuse me, everyone,” David made his presence known. “Please, get back! Let me through.”  
“OH! It's the Doc!”  
“Hey, David! Finally.”  
“C'mon Doc! This way, she's over here.”  
The shoulders parted and David had access to the shop and the next thing he knew someone had him by the arm and was dragging him over to the scene of the accident. The murmuring group stood aside and David got his first look at the huge shelving unit filling the floor.  It was solid and two men were heaving at if trying to move it from the injured woman.  
David stepped forward, his alarm making him yell more sharply than he meant.  “Stop!  Stop that right now.”  
“Huh?”  the men stood, their brows furrowing.  
“If she’s still alive you could kill her by moving that.  If a limb is trapped the toxins built up.  If you release them she’ll die of toxic shock as soon as they travel around her body.”  
“So what do you do if there is a limb trapped,” demanded the taller of the two men.  
“Amputate,” David dropped to his knees and started peering under the wreckage.  
“What?  Here and now?”  
“Yes.  Here and now,” David replied ignoring the horrified muttering around him.  He blinked staring into the void beneath the wall unit.  “We may be in luck, it knocked over the counter which propped it up a little and she’s lying in the space.”  He stood, feeling a numbing fear go through him as usual when he thought that he had arrived too late; that his services simply would not be required. Then his professionalism took over.  “Can any of you get around the side?  Can you see her feet?”  
He lay on his belly, shuffling in beside the woman. The on-lookers all leaned in closer and suddenly the scene went black as they blocked his light.  
“No please!” David waved them back. “Give me room. Go about your day, let me work here.”  
This was met by some disappointed grumbling by everyone who wanted to get the news first hand. There was another disturbance in the force and Vincent was finally there, gasping for breath but still with enough where-with-all to take over crowd control.  
“Yeah. C'mon everybody. Go about your daily business. Give the Doc some room okay?”  
Some more discontented grumbling, but everyone did begin to disperse and Vincent knelt down beside David, wringing his hands in guilty consternation.  
“I didn't mean for this to happen, really Doc!” Vincent was beside himself. “Such a pretty young thing—I didn't mean...”  
Vincent's voice trailed off as he watched the doctor work. David was not paying him the least bit of attention. His full focus was on the woman laying on the floor.  He touched her forehead and then the side of her face and found that she was cold, but clammy. His fingers went to her jugular to feel for a pulse. The world stood still and even Vincent had stopped breathing in anticipation of the Doc's verdict.  
David held his fingers pressed against her throat and his other hand against her chest for a good thirty seconds. His eyes closed and his own breathing slowed down to a minimum as he searched for any sign of life. Finally he drew in a deep breath and slid back into the room.  
“She's still alive,” he announced.  
The sigh of relief escaping from Vincent could have been heard as far as the saloon. The man nearly collapsed right then and there.  
“Oh, thank goodness!” he whispered. “Is she gonna be alright, Doc?”  
“I don't know,” David admitted as he glanced heavily over at the solid case of shelves.  I need someone to try to see if her feet are trapped at the other end.”  
The youngest, probably only aged about twelve, shuffled into the space around the wall and focused on the area where the victim’s feet should be.  “Nothin’, Doc.  I can’t see a thing.”  
“You’re sure?  It’s vitally important.  Is it even on top of them so we can’t see them easily?”  
The lad sidled further around and shook his head.  “Nothin’.  I can’t see them at all.”   
David scratched his chin distractedly.  “Fine.  We’ve got to take the chance.  Take a corner each and lift.”  
It took six groaning men to raise the structure and lift it over to the side as David swept in next to the pale, inanimate body.  Now that it had been shoved over and out of the way, the shelves lay looking innocent and unobtrusive. “Give me some room, will you Vincent? Let me examine her.”  
“Oh yeah. Yeah sure.”  
Vincent pushed himself to his shaky feet and went to lean against the wall for support. He heard footsteps coming towards them and got himself all geared up to chase another busy-body away only to be brought up short by the sheriff's badge.  
“Oh, Sheriff Jacobs.” Vincent backed off. “I swear I didn't mean for this to happen...honest...!”  
“Don't worry about it, Cramond,” Jacobs assured him. “I think we can all agree that it was an accident.”  
“Yeah, but I fixed it to the wall.  I swear I did!  I did a real good job for her!”  
Jacobs strode over to David.  “How is she Doc?”  
But David didn't answer right away; he was too focused on his examination. He gently but knowingly ran his hands down the white face taking note of the nasty bruising and large bump on her forehead. She had blood running down the side of her face, and both her cheekbones and chin were scraped and raw. He carried on his examination along the jawbone and then down behind the neck. It was so hard to tell when the patient was unconscious if the spine was broken anywhere and whether there was any paralysis or not. He had to probe carefully here and to move her as little as possible until more could be determined.  
“She has a bad concussion, obviously and her nose is broken,” he finally informed the others. “She's bitten into her lower lip here but I don't think any of her teeth are broken.” He moved his hands down further and began to unbutton her blouse.  
Vincent instantly backed off and fidgeted. “Ahh, I don't think I should be here for this,” he mumbled uncomfortably. “How about I wait outside?”  He gestured with his head to the rest of his team who followed obediently.    
“Yeah, sure,” Jacobs assured him and nodded.  
Vincent and his workforce made a hasty retreat as David continued to unbutton the blouse. He opened up his satchel and took out his set of heavy shears and using that he cut through the material of her sleeves so that the clothing fell away from her. He carefully scrutinized her arms, running his gentle fingers lightly down them and into the fingers.  
“Her right arm is broken along with three fingers on her right hand,” he announced quietly. “She probably used this arm to try and ward off the shelving. See how the bruising here looks like straight lines? That's where the edge of the shelves came down on her. And this here, where the skin has been scraped off.” David shook his head at the injuries. “And here, she has two more broken fingers on the left hand. The left arm is bruised and scraped much like the right one, but otherwise, intact. She's got some splinters embedded in both her palms; I'll remove those once we get her back to my office.” He took a look around to be sure that only he and the sheriff were present and then used the shears to cut through the material of her bodice.  
Jacobs sucked his teeth. “Jesus!” he breathed. “She's covered in bruises!”  
David nodded and carefully ran his hands down her torso. “Hmm. Collar bones are alright. Three broken ribs here and two more on the other side. Damn...she could have internal injuries here and bleeding inside. With all this bruising here I would expect that she is. She took a hard hit.”  
“Is she gonna make it Doc?”  
“I don't know,” David admitted.  
He gently pulled up the material of her skirt and ran his hands down her legs and checked her ankles, then he sat back with a sigh.  
“Well, her legs aren't broken at least,” he commented. “They're bruised some, obviously, but nothing to be too concerned about. The left ankle’s swollen; it could be a minor fracture, or maybe just a bad sprain.”  David stood.  “We'll need to move her but it's risky.”  
“Why?”  
“If her spine is broken anywhere then moving her will only make it worse. It might even kill her outright,” David explained. “Also, those broken ribs. I don't think they've punctured anything vital, but moving her the wrong way could cause them to do just that. We'll have to do it very carefully. Go get Joe and tell Vincent to bring over a sheet of plywood, say; two feet by six. We've got to try and keep her back as straight as possible until I know for sure what we're dealing with.”  
“Yeah, okay Doc,” Jacobs agreed. “I'll be back as soon as I can.”  
“And bring a blanket!”  
The sheriff quickly trotted off and David turned back to his patient. He covered her back up again to be decent and taking some triangular bandages from his satchel, he quickly immobilized and splinted the broken arm to keep it temporarily safe from further harm before turning his attention to her ankle.  He sat back and gently cupped the pale face in his hand.  
“Hang on there, ma'am,” he told her quietly. “Just hang on; I'm going to do everything I can to bring you through this.”  
It seemed to take such a long time for the assistants and the plywood to show up but they did eventually get there and David quickly put them all to work.  
“Okay.” The doctor took charge and taking the blanket he draped it over the patient and tucked it in around her as best he could. “Clear away this debris here so that the plywood will lay flat along side of her. Good. Alright. Now this next part is going to be very tricky. We have to get her moved over onto the plywood but we can't let her body bend or twist at all, do you understand? We have to keep her torso straight.”  
David looked around at the pale faces surrounding him. Joe and Vincent both were feeling the nerves and even Sheriff Jacobs was a tad bit concerned. But all three men nodded and settled in to do their part.  
“Good.” David nodded. “Alright. Joe if you could hold her ankles and Sheriff, if you could just kneel down here on her other side and I'll stay at her head and support her shoulders and neck. What we're going to do is simply tilt her body over towards you Sheriff and then Vincent, you slide the plywood underneath her, got that?  We need to keep her spine as straight as possible.  As soon as the plywood is in place, then we gently let her roll back down onto it, still keeping the spine straight. Alright?”  Everybody nodded. “Okay.  On three. One, two, three...”  
Everybody did their bit and within the space of two seconds the job was done and Amy was laying flat upon the sheet of plywood. The four men all sat back with heartfelt sighs of relief.  
“Good work everyone,” David praised them. “Now, just carefully lift her up and let’s get her over to my office.”  
   
Four hours later Amy was still laying flat on the sheet of plywood but now she was cleaned up and her injuries treated. She had been placed on top of the bed in the spare room with pillows supporting her and blankets tucked in around her to keep her warm. She looked small, pale and fragile with so much of her body either wrapped in bandages and held in splints, or looking bruised and battered and painful to the touch.  
David and Tricia emerged from the bedroom looking almost as worn out as the patient. Miranda stopped helping Nathan with his jigsaw puzzle and quickly stood up to make tea for everyone. She lit the stove and began to heat up soup and cut up slices of bread.  
“How does she look?” she asked as she went about the business of preparing lunch. “Is she going to be alright?”  
David sighed, looking worried. “I don't know,” he admitted. “I've done all I can at this point. I dare not move her until I know if she has broken her spine or not and I won't know that until she wakes up---if she wakes up.”  
“I heard that David,” Tricia admonished her husband. “Of course she's going to wake up.”  She sighed heavily.  “She has to.”  
Tricia rubbed her husband's back while she and Miranda exchanged worried looks.  Nathan glanced up at the adults, a concerned frown on his face. He was quite accustomed to people showing up at their home with various injuries or illnesses to be treated, but usually it was just part of the day's work.  His father would treat them, make everything all better and send them on their way.  That's what his father did, but today was different; today the adults were worried.  
Miranda sat down at the table, bringing her hands up to her mouth in guilty concern.  
“Oh, I feel terrible now,” she admitted. “The things I said about her yesterday.  The things I was thinking about her!  And now this had to happen.”  
“This wasn't your fault Randa,” Tricia tried to sooth her. “It was an accident.”  
“Yes, I know. But...”  
A knock came to the door then and David rose up to answer it.  
“Oh, Sheriff. Come in.”  
“Yeah, thanks.”  
“Hello Sheriff,” Tricia greeted the lawman. “We're just making tea, would you like a cup?”  
“Oh, no ma'am, thank you,” Jacobs declined. “Actually, I'm here on official business.  I gotta eat my words when I assured Cramond that this was an accident.”  
Everyone perked up in surprise.  
“What?” David asked.  “You don't think Vincent...!?”  
“No, no,” Jacobs assured everyone.  “Mr. Cramond had no reason to do that.  And besides, he was so upset over the whole thing I kinda doubt he would have anything to do with it.”  
“Well, why?” David asked again.  “What makes you think it wasn't an accident?”  
“After we helped you bring Mrs. Oliphant over here, Joe and I went back over to her shop to just take a look around, you know, and to put her takings in my safe for her,” Jacobs explained.  “We took a real good look at that shelving to see if we could find how it had come loose and ya' know, it looked real suspicious. Cramond used good nails and solid screws so no fault there, but we could see rasp marks on the wall where the shelf would have been fixed - so we took a really good look at the screws.  
”Sure enough those things had been tampered with.  They'd been loosened so that just a minimal amount of weight against them would cause them to pull out of the wall.” Jacobs rubbed his chin and thought about it for a moment.  “There's been an odd fellow hanging around town lately—claims to be some kind of a surveyor or something and at first he kinda came to mind, but now - I dunno.  The heads on them screws were all scored and striped with some kind of tool.”  
“What!?”  Miranda gasped and her hand came up to her mouth again.  “Why would anyone want to harm Mrs. Oliphant?  All the ladies in town were enjoying her shop!”  
Jacobs shrugged. “I dunno.  This fella, Bamforth is his name; now he's got his mother travelling with him.”  
“His mother?” David asked, somewhat suspiciously.  “Why would he be travelling with his mother if he's out surveying the countryside?”  
“That's kinda what I thought too,” Jacobs admitted. “But he claims that he's all she's got and she insists on accompanying him.” The Sheriff shrugged again. “What can ya' do? As far as I know they haven't done anything illegal but with all the strange things that have been going on around here, I'm kinda suspicious of anybody new in town.”  
“You don't actually think that anyone would do this deliberately, do you?” David asked him.  
“It looks like somebody did,” Jacobs pointed out. “The thought did occur to me that his mother‘s probably his alibi, so that likely is a dead-end, although this wouldn’t take strength – just a tool to dig around the screws and weaken them.  This could have been done by anyone, male or female.”  
“You think it was a woman?” exclaimed Tricia.  
“Possibly, yes.  I’m keeping an open mind; this is attempted murder after all,”  Jacobs rubbed his face, “and let’s hope it stays at that.”  
“But why?” David repeated Miranda's question. “Everyone liked her.”  
“Well obviously someone didn't,” Jacobs commented dryly.  “And as for reasons,” he shrugged, “we don't really know Mrs. Oliphant that well.  She might have had enemies who followed her here—so again, the Bamforths are obvious suspects just because they’re new to town. The only other person new in town was Mrs. Oliphant herself.  I guess it could also be someone who was already here though. I don't know; business competitor perhaps? Jealousy? Was she spending time with any one gentleman in particular?”  
“From what I understood she is recently widowed, and she chose this town because there’s not another milliner for at least fifty miles,” Tricia informed him.  “She was also making it quite clear that she wasn't interested in any romantic entanglements.  She just wanted to run her business and star anew.”  
“Yes, I knew she was a widow,” Jacobs agreed, “but that doesn't cancel out being interested in starting afresh with someone new.  Was she seeing anyone at all, even casually?”  
“Oh...well,” Tricia glanced over at Miranda and her cousin would not meet her eye. “Hannibal seemed to be spending some time, but I'm sure that was nothing. I'm sure he was just needing someone to talk to you know; someone who had been through loss.”  
“Heyes was spending time with her?” Jacobs asked and then rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Hmm.  Maybe I'll just take a ride out to the Double J and have a word with him.  I'm sure it's nothing, but...”  
“You can’t think Hannibal did this!” gasped Miranda.  
Sheriff Jacobs shook his head.  “No, this isn’t his style at all.  He may have seen something without realising it’s significant, that’s all.”  He shrugged, “One never knows. How is she doin' Doc?  She gonna be alright?”  
”Oh!”  David was surprised by the sudden change in topic.  “Sorry, I don't know yet.  I'll be able to tell more when she wakes up.”  
“Fine. I'll want to have a word with her too, once she's able.”  
“I'll let you know,” David assured him.  
“Alright, well; have a good afternoon.” Jacobs tipped his hat and David saw him to the door.  
Tricia looked over at her cousin but Miranda quickly stood up and turning her back on the table she busied herself with stirring the soup.

 

Heyes’ eyes fixed on the neat regular writing on the envelope before ripping it open.  Abi’s handwriting!  He pulled out the sheets of paper with relish, a postcard fluttering down to the floor.  A smile twitched at his lips as he bent to pick it up, the etching making him blink with surprise.  It was a drawing of the mounted skeleton of a massive dinosaur in a museum, the grinning, pointed teeth standing out as starkly as the clean ribcage.  The trailing, articulated tail stretched out to a point as two men stood in front of it admiring the picked-clean, ivory bones; one remarking, ‘It reminds me of the day after our thanksgiving dinner.’  
He turned it over, smiling at the careful, but childish, handwriting.  
Dear Uncle Han,  
I am having the most wonderful vacation with mama.  I have been to see the display of dinosaurs at the museum.  They are gigantic, with big teeth!  To see them alive must have been most terrifying.  I have also been on a boat trip.  We are now staying in a place called Montecito, and Mama takes me to a place called Butterfly Beach to play with other children from our guest house.  I am having the most marvellous time, and Mama says I am brown as a berry after playing in the sun without my hat.  I think that must be a Scottish saying as I’ve never seen a brown berry, unless I remind her of a coconut.  I do hope not.  
Mama sends her love along with mine.  
Anya XXX       
Heyes sat down with a flutter in his heart.  It was funny and sweet – just like his daughter and a wonderful snapshot of a moment in her life.  He placed it carefully on the kitchen table and unfolded the notepaper.  
My Dearest Mr. Heyes,  
As you can see from Anya’s postcard, she still thinks of you very fondly and wishes to send you her love in her own inimitable way.  She chose the postcard herself and I have to say it is ‘very Anya.’  
My lawyer says we may have found a buyer for the house, which is good.  Hester has returned there to pack everything up.  She will leave Topeka via the Pinkerton office to make sure she is not followed and head back to Mayzee’s, who has kindly invited us to stay until we find somewhere to settle.'  
Heyes glanced up from the letter, his eyes narrowing.  Mayzee – Cage’s sister.  He would be around.  Heyes sighed and returned to the letter.  
Hester has been very supportive and tolerant of all the disruption we have caused to her life, but I think she is enjoying giving some lessons to the girls at the school, as well as the option of possibly moving west, where qualified doctors of either sex are appreciated in growing communities.  
I am trying to look out for you by keeping track of what Joan Baines is up to, and I have done what I can to make sure I am notified of suspicious behaviour in your area.  Sheriff Jacobs has written to me to assure me that he will be very alert and keep in touch.  He is certainly a conscientious and open-minded man, so I do think you can turn to him for help and support.  Hopefully, having alert eyes and ears on the ground will give you the space to grow and prosper as you move forward with your new life.      
How are you, a'ghaol?  I do hope you are not too down about the parole.  As disappointing as it was, it was not unexpected and that was why we agreed that you should move on with your life if the news was bad.  You could be on parole for another ten years and in that time it may not be possible for us to see one another as the threat to Anya exists as long as Joan Baines draws breath.  Hanging on to an impossible dream will not only drive us both insane, it will eat up the years in which you could be building a life and family.  You must not allow these vagaries to turn you away from any of life’s gifts because one wasn’t within your grasp.   
There is nothing I would love more than to have you by my side as I sit here looking out at Anya leaping over waves, but it was not to be. I miss you all over again and the gnawing pain is terrible.  It had gone for a while there, but now I know it is an inevitable part of me.           
I know this will be as difficult for you as it is for me, but you must hold on and enjoy the gifts around you.  I know there is a future for you in Brookswood.  You will have the most beautiful children.  Move on and stop mortgaging your future.  There will be more to learn and experience in this lifetime.  
It breaks my heart to write this letter to you.  There are reasons we met, and very important reasons why this must end.  I cannot take parting from you again, and Anya is at an age where she will start asking questions.     
We have had such a thrilling time.  We have peered at life through livid flames and passions.  I know it will never be so electrifying again but there will be a new meaning and I urge you to walk towards it with an open heart.    
I will not write to you again unless I have important news, but I will forward my address and news of our Anya in the future.  
With all my love, now and always,  
   
Abigail   
   
Heyes sat back in his seat, a caustic ball of bile forming at the back of his throat.  Thoughts ran through his mind at breakneck speed.  She still loved him and she was going to tell him where she was.  Would she come away with him after the wedding?  He had to be careful – if she was staying with Mayzee, Cage would be around and would turn him in for breaking his parole if he tried to talk Abigail into the madness of life on the run –or would he?  Cage swapped guns to keep him out of jail.  
He picked up Anya’s postcard and gazed warmly at the cartoon.  This was adult humour.  This girl was special; both clever and funny.  Oh, God!  When would he be able to have her acknowledge him as her father?  
Australia.  It was the other side of the world.  Maybe he should visit the new library to find out a bit more.  It was full of ex-cons and where was better to hide a straw than in a barn?  Who would really care as long as he stayed out of trouble?  Heyes sighed heavily.  There was so much to think about.  
His attention suddenly scattered as Jesse walked into the room, followed by Sheriff Jacobs.  Heyes caught the business like glint in the lawman’s eyes and was suddenly overcome by a sense of dread.  He leaped guiltily to his feet.  
Jesse frowned.  “Hannibal, the sheriff wants to speak to you about something.  Are you alright?”  
“I... I was reading a letter from Abi.”  
Jesse nodded.  “That’s good, isn’t it?  Is everyone well?”  
“Yeah, Anya’s been to the museum and she’s at the seaside now.”   
The sheriff glanced down at the postcard with a smile, but noting the guilt in Heyes’ eyes.  “Sounds great.”  
“Yeah,” Heyes muttered bitterly.  
“Is Mrs. Stewart well?” Jacobs asked.  
“Hurting, but she can’t risk our daughter in case of an ‘accident.’”  
Jacobs nodded.  “Yeah, that kinda brings me onto what I want to talk to you about.”   
“Oh yeah?” Heyes asked, distractedly placing the postcard and letter down on the side table. “I don't suppose the governor has changed his mind.”  
Jacobs smiled a little sardonically. “No. Afraid not.”  
Heyes nodded looking down at the letter, his mind unwilling to break away from the lonely message.  
“There's been an accident in town Heyes,” Jacobs explained. “At least at first we thought it was just an accident but on closer scrutiny it's looking a bit more deliberate.”  
Heyes' brow creased and he felt a shiver go through him. Was it beginning to happen already? Abi had felt sure everyone would be safe until after the trials. He swallowed nervously.  
“What happened, Sheriff?” he asked almost breathlessly. “Who...?”  
“Actually it was your friend, Mrs. Oliphant,” Jacobs informed him and watched the blood bleach from Heyes' face.  
“Oh my goodness,” Jesse commented quietly.  
“Is she...?” Heyes was afraid to form the word.  
“No,” Jacobs assured both men. “She's alive. Dr. Gibson has her over at his place now and we all know that if anyone can bring her through this, it's him.”  
Heyes nodded emphatically. “Yeah. What happened?”  
“Apparently Mr. Cramond built some shelving for her the other day and had just recently installed it in her shop.”  
“Yes,” Heyes concurred. “I was over to visit with her yesterday—I saw it there. Great workmanship. Very sturdy.”  
“Hmm,” Jacobs nodded. “When Mr. Cramond returned there early this morning he found that the shelving had come loose and had fallen over, crushing Mrs. Oliphant underneath it.”  
Heyes' eyes widen in shock and he was instantly on the move. “I've got to get in to see.....”  
“NO! Heyes wait!” Jacobs grabbed his arm before he had taken two steps. “She's unconscious now anyways and Doc won't let anyone in to see her. He doesn't even know the full extent of her injuries yet so you may as well just stay here.”  
“But how...?”  
“At first we thought it was just an accident,” Jacobs told him. “but further investigation suggests that it was more than that. It looks as though someone deliberately loosened the screws so that the shelving would fall over with very little persuasion.”  
Heyes stood quietly, shaking his head while his brain tried to work it out.  
“That doesn't make sense Carl,” Jesse commented. “Mrs. Oliphant doesn't have anything to do with Hannibal and Jed. If someone was wanting to punish the boys by hurting people close to them I'm sure they could have found a more likely target.”  
“I'm not saying this has anything to do with that vendetta,” Jacobs pointed out. “It could be totally unrelated. All I can do right now is start asking questions. It is my understanding that you were spending time with Mrs. Oliphant. Is that right Heyes?”  
“What?” Heyes looked up sharply, the personal question cutting through his fog. “Well, yeah I suppose. But it was nothing serious Sheriff; just....someone to talk to who's been through....”  
“Yeah,” Jacobs sighed with understanding. “Yeah, I know. But did you notice anything? Any comments made; even just a look. I've noticed that there's a lot of ladies in town who wouldn't mind courting your attention and then you start spending time with someone who is relatively new to these parts. Anybody showing any kind of a jealous streak who might be thinking of taking things into their own hands?”  
Heyes snickered. “Well, Isabelle.”  
The other two gentlemen snorted. “Yeah, well...Isabelle.” Jacobs basically wrote her off as anything serious. “There'd be no ladies left in town if she got rid of everyone who she viewed as a rival. No—this would be someone who has some smarts. What about Mrs. Thornton? You and her were pretty serious before all this other stuff started happening, then you get back to town basically a free man again and you start showing interest in someone else....”  
Heyes actually felt his hackles rise at this accusation. “I told you Sheriff; there was nothing romantic going on between me and Mrs. Oliphant! She was just...someone to talk to. Miranda knew that! Amy herself made it clear to her. And besides,” he added quietly. “Miranda wouldn't do anything like that.”  
But he dropped his eyes and averted his gaze from the sheriff's intense scrutiny. Amy's words came back to him unbidden   “Mrs. Thornton, however?  She may be another matter entirely.  To walk past here right after she’d left speaks loudly of a woman checking up on you.” . Heyes suddenly felt doubt, then felt ashamed of himself for even considering the possibility. Miranda was too kind, too giving a person to do something like that—it just wasn't in her. Didn't she actually push Heyes to go after Abi; to give it that one more chance—to sort things out? Miranda just wasn't the jealous type, not to that degree. She just wasn't.  
“I'd be very much surprised if Miranda behaved in such a manner, Carl.” Jesse supported Heyes' opinion. “We've gotten to know her quite well in the time that's she's lived here and I doubt...”  
“Yes I know.” Jacobs held up a hand to stop the protests. “Just so you know; I tend to agree. But I can't rule anyone out, not at this early stage.” The sheriff sighed and placed that same hand on Heyes' shoulder. Heyes looked up, his expression pale and worried. “It also turns out that we had a couple of other people show up in town while we were away in Cheyenne. He's some sort of a surveyor; land or minerals or something and he's travelling with his mother. I questioned them before all this happened and I saw no reason at that time to suspect them of any wrong-doing. Of course now I expect I will be checking into the Bramforth's a little bit more thoroughly.”  
“He's travelling with his mother?” Jesse asked suspiciously.  
“I know!” Jacobs agreed.   
“Well that must be it.” Heyes perked up, snatching at straws. “Two strangers in town showing up right before this 'accident' happens? And who ever heard of a land surveyor travelling with his mother!”  
“Now you back off of this Heyes.” Jacobs pointed a finger at him. “You're too close to this. You know the victim and chances are you also know the perpetrator so the last thing I need is you running off half-cocked. You just let me and Joe deal with this, you hear me?”  
Heyes smiled guiltily. “Oh no Sheriff. I didn't mean....”  
“No, of course you didn't,” Jacobs commented dubiously. “and you just keep on remembering that you didn't. You hear me?”  
Heyes shrugged and nodded. “Yeah....”  
“Good!” Then he sent a reassuring smile to the ex-con. “Just relax Heyes. Let us deal with this. In the mean time if you can think of anything else—anything that Mrs. Oliphant might have said herself about a professional rival or anything that might now seem suspicious, you let me know. Alright?”  
“Yeah, of course.” Heyes nodded agreement.  
“Fine. Well, I best be headed back. It seems I have a full plate again,” the sheriff observed. “I'll let you know what's going on as soon as I know.”  
“Okay Carl.” Jesse started to escort him to the door. “Thanks for coming out.”

Heyes stood quietly for a moment, feeling totally wrung out. First that very emotional letter from Abi, letting him know in no uncertain terms that it was over between them; at least as far as being a family was concerned. And then this news from right there in town. He sighed heavily, running his hands through his hair and sat himself down in the armchair where he'd been reading the letter and the note from his daughter.  
He jumped slightly, startled by Mouse springing lightly onto his lap. Just like her mother, she always seemed to know when someone was upset or down in the dumps. She wasn't just that way with Heyes; she cared about everyone in her pride and would hover and rub and purr and drool with any member of the family if she sensed that they were concerned about anything. But Heyes was still special; he was still her preferred human and she would come and curl up and sit with him for hours even when he wasn't under duress.   
Now, of course she knew that he was worried and she put all her inherent skills to work to help him feel better. She kneed his shirt front and then settled in upon his chest, her green eyes narrowed to slits and she gazed her love upon him. She smiled and purred and rubbed her whiskers against his nose and he couldn't help but smile back at her.  
“Come to make me feel better have you?” He stroked her soft fur and she arched her back as his hand ran down and gave her tail a slight pull.  
“Ack.”  
“You're a good friend, you know that?”  
“Merrr.”  
“Here Hannibal.” Jesse showed up beside him and handed him a shot of whiskey. “Settle the nerves.”  
Heyes smiled and accepted the drink. “We seem to be indulging a lot lately.”  
“There's a lot been going on,” Jesse pointed out as he took his own glass and sat down in the armchair opposite. “I just let Belle know what's happened. She and Beth will go into town tomorrow and see if Trich needs any help.”  
Heyes simply nodded and continued to stroke his cat.  
Jesse gave a deep sigh. “I don't know what to say Han,” he admitted. “I just don't know. 'We'll get through this' is starting to sound pretty lame.”  
“Ha. Yeah, that's for sure.”  
“Still, I tend to agree with Carl in that it's probably got nothing to do with that vendetta,” Jesse assured his friend. “Even Abi didn't think anything would happen before the trials and it makes sense that it wouldn't”  
“Yeah, but then it's someone in town here,” Heyes pointed out. “Maybe someone was planning on opening up a milliner's shop and Amy showed up and took the wind out of their sails. Maybe....”  
“Maybe we should just not worry about it and let Carl and Joe do their jobs,” Jesse countered. “You listen to Carl, Hannibal; you don't need to get involved with this. I know you're concerned about your friends; that's understandable but that's as far as it goes. Don't go getting yourself into trouble over this.”  
Heyes downed his shot and nodded. “Yeah. I know you're right Jesse. But I think I'll ride into town tomorrow anyways,” he smiled, reassuringly. “just to check up on my friends.” 

 Heyes didn’t even take the time to find a hitching rail - he tethered Karma to the Gibson’s fence and strode briskly up the path.  He bounded up the porch steps and hammered on the door.  It was opened by a harassed-looking Tricia who waved her hand as she urgently hushed him.  “Be quiet!  There’s a very ill patient in the house.”  
“I know,” Heyes made to push at the door.  “That’s who I’ve come to see.  The sheriff told me.  How is she?”  
David appeared at his wife’s shoulder.  “Hannibal?  What’s all this noise?”  
“I came to see Amy.  How is she?  Is she as bad as the sheriff said?”  
David walked out to the porch, taking Heyes by the elbow.  “I’ll deal with this, Tricia.  Go on with what you were doing.”  
Heyes felt the anxiety spiral in his breast.  “What!?  Why won’t you answer me?”  
David led Heyes to a porch chair.  “Hannibal, she’s a very sick woman.  You shouldn’t have come, she’s not able to see anyone right now.”  
Heyes jerked his arm away.  “Yeah, I guess she’s out of it, but I could still see her.”  
David folded his arms and looked into Heyes’ eyes.  “No, Hannibal.  It’s touch and go, and we don’t need you butting in here.  We all have a lot to do to give her the best possible chance.”  
Heyes looked pale and worried, his breath catching in his throat “Is she gonna die, Doc?”  
David watched Heyes shift nervously from foot to foot.  “I don’t know, Hannibal.  I really don’t.  She’s in a bad way.”  
Heyes gave a rasping sigh and pulled off his hat to run a hand distractedly through his hair.  “Is this because of me, David?  Because I spent time talking to her?”  
The doctor frowned.  “Why would you have anything to do with this?”  
Heyes swung around and leaned heavily on the porch rail.  “Has she said anything?”  
“She’s unconscious and I’m not sure if she’ll ever come round,” David arched an eyebrow, “and I’m out here with you.  If you have any consideration for her you’ll let me get on with my job.”  
Heyes turned to face him again, delivering one of his most intense stares.  “Let me see her.  I want to see her.”  
David met the Hannibal Heyes’ look’ with a dismissive snort.  “Get out of here, Hannibal.  I’m busy.  This isn’t about what you want.”  
Heyes simmered quietly.  He had worked himself up on the ride in here, and wasn’t prepared to go back to the Double J without getting something.  “One minute, one glance!”  
“And just what is that going to achieve?  For God’s sake, man.  Get out of here.  I’m busy, and so is my wife.”  David turned and opened the door to the house.  
“Is that it?  Are you just gonna let me worry?”  
“We’re all worried, Hannibal.  Do it somewhere else.”  
“Wait, David,” Heyes’ eyes swirled with angst.  'I JUST WANT TO SEE HER!”  
“NO!”  
“Can’t you give me anything?” Heyes had instantly switched from angry outburst to desperate pleading.  “Please David, anything! No matter how small?”  
David scowled. He was too tired at this point to succumb to Heyes' compelling nature. “Yes, I’ll give you some advice  – don’t squat with your spurs on.  I’m too busy to look after you as well!”  
The door slammed firmly behind him, leaving a simmering Heyes on the porch.  He lingered for a few moments with tight lips and grinding teeth. His first reaction to David dismissing him so abruptly was anger and he took a step forward and punched the porch railing with his fist. Karma jumped at his violent reaction and then sent him a reprimanding look. Their eyes locked and he instantly found himself calming down; it's one thing for another human being to take him to task, but when his own horse did it he pretty much had to accept that he was over-reacting.  
He lightened up his stance, took a couple of deep breaths and came down the steps to stand by his mare's head. She blew a little bit at him, not sure of his mood but then she relaxed and rubbed her head against his chest. He smiled and patted her neck, playing idly with her mane before untethering her and leading her towards town.  “C’mon, girl.  We’ve come all this way.  We might as well get a drink before we head back.  There’s a trough with your name on it right outside the saloon.”  

Heyes entered the familiar drinking establishment and out of habit rather than necessity he took a quick survey around the floor to get an inkling of who was about.  At first he didn't see anyone of consequence and was about to head over to the bar when his eye did suddenly light on someone of interest. He frowned and carried on to the bar to order his beer and contemplate.  
“Thanks Bill,” Heyes mumbled as the full mug was handed to him.  
“Uh huh.”  
Heyes turned around and leaned back against the bar while he took a quick gulp of his refreshment. He pursed his lips as he considered his next move all the while hearing Jacobs warning him in no uncertain terms to 'stay out of it', but somehow Heyes just wasn't quite able to do that. He made up his mind quickly and taking his beer, he strode over to the table where sat the only new stranger in town.  
“Good afternoon,” Heyes greeted him with a fox smile. “Am I right in assuming that you are Mr. Bamforth?”   
The gentleman in question looked up from his revelry. “Oh, Mr. Heyes,” he responded, a little surprised. “Yes, I'm Valentine Bamforth.” He stood up and offered his hand, Heyes accepted and they shook on it. “Please, sit down. Join me.”   
“Thank you,” Heyes accepted the offer and settled himself into a chair. “You know who I am.”  
Bamforth chuckled. “Everyone in this territory and the next knows who you are, Mr. Heyes. Surely you are accustomed to that by now.”  
“I suppose I should be,” Heyes admitted. “but with all those years of keeping our identities hidden, having them right out in the open like this is still a little un-nerving.”  
Bamforth smiled and nodded his understanding. “You certainly picked a nice town to settle in.”  
“Yes,” Heyes agreed. “And we like to keep it that way.”  
Bamforth creased his brow. “Indeed.”  
“Sheriff Jacobs tells me you're a surveyor.”  
“Yes, that's correct,” Bamforth collaborated. “Minerals though, not land. Do you have an interest?”  
“Not really—no.” Heyes answered dryly.  
Bamforth nodded and took another drink; he wasn't quite sure where this was going.  
“Jacobs also tells me that you travel around with your mother.”  
“Yes,” Bamforth also collaborated that. “She's lonely and enjoys travelling so she accompanies me on occasion.”  
“Hmm hm.”  
Bamforth was beginning to get irritated. “Mr. Heyes just what are you getting at?”  
“A lady who just happens to be a good friend of mine is over at the doctor's house lingering somewhere between life and death.”  
“Yes,” Bamforth showed his sympathy. “I did hear about that. And Sheriff Jacobs has already....”  
“And I just think it's a bit too much of a coincidence,” Heyes stated, cutting him off. “that you and your 'mother' just happened to show up in town right before she was attacked.”   
Bamforth's mouth tightened in irritation. “I can assure you that is all it is, Mr. Heyes; a coincidence. As I was saying; Sheriff Jacobs has already spoken to me about the matter and is satisfied that I am who I say I am. If you have any doubts about that I suggest you take it up with him.”  
Heyes nodded as he took a swig of beer then swallowed. “Hmm, yeah. The Sheriff and I already discussed it. Let's just say I'm not so easily convinced as the sheriff.”  
“Don't make me regret inviting you to join me Mr. Heyes,” Bamforth warned him. “You may have a few friends in high places but I don't take well to some ex-con attempting to strong arm me. If you continue with this intimidation I'm sure Sheriff Jacobs would be interested in knowing about it.”  
Heyes smiled dangerously but he was on thin ice here and he knew it. He swallowed down the last of his beer and pushed his chair away from the table. “That's fine Mr. Bamforth—I only came in for a friendly beer before heading home. Just thought I would let you know that Mrs. Oliphant is not alone here—she has friends.”  
“Good day, Mr. Heyes.”  
“Mr. Bamforth.”

Heyes made his way out of the saloon and approached his mare. Karma turned her head to him and started to rub against him.  
“Ahgg! Karma!” He pushed her away. “Your face is all wet! What did you do go for a swim in that trough?” Karma snorted her indignation, spraying him even further and with more than just water. “Hey! Karma!”  
“Joshua!”  
Heyes looked up and then smiled broadly, his foul mood lifting at the sight of his two friends. Monty's pretty little bay head was turned towards him as the ladies in the surrey directed the pacer over to the hitching rail and brought him to a halt beside Karma. Heyes gave the gelding a rub on the face and ran his hand down the horse's neck and along his flanks as he approached the surrey and its two passengers.  
“Hello Joshua,” Belle greeted him. “We were wondering if we might run into you in town. Were you able to see Mrs. Oliphant?”  
“No.” Heyes almost scowled but decided not to. “David wouldn't let me in.”  
“I'm not surprised,” Belle admitted. “He's so very protective of his patients—especially when they are that badly injured. Don't take it personally.”  
“Hmm,” Heyes mumbled. “What are you ladies doing in town?”  
“We stopped by to see if Tricia needed any help,” Beth offered up. “She asked us to pick them up some groceries and a few other things. Miranda is at the house helping them and David doesn't want anymore people there than that. Even Nathan has been sent away in order to keep the house quiet.”  
“Really?” Heyes asked. “Were you inside—did you see Amy?”  
“No, Joshua,” Belle smiled sadly at him, noting his disappointment and worry. “Tricia came outside to give me the list of items they would need and I'm sure she and Randa will come out to receive them as well. David is being very strict on the 'no visitors' decree.”  
“Yes, so I see,” Heyes commented. “Do you need any help with the groceries? I could give you a hand and then we can all go back home together.”  
“Well that would be lovely Joshua,” Belle accepted. “Thank you.”  
Heyes smiled and nodded. He turned back to his mare and was just untying the reins when the bat wing doors of the saloon opened and Valentine Bamforth stepped out. The two men stopped for an instant and exchanged hard looks, then the spell was broken and they each carried on their separate ways.  
Heyes mounted up on Karma and turned her out to the street to fall in beside the surrey. 'Valentine...' he mumbled to himself. '...and I thought Hannibal was bad.'

Miranda glanced up from her book with a frown, examining the figure on the bed in the lamplight.  Was that a groan?  She glanced over at the clock.  The hands sat at just after three thirty.  Miranda stood and walked over to the patient, wondering if she should wake David.  She didn’t want to disturb him unless she had to – he needed his sleep.  
A low moan escaped the swollen, bruised lips, just above where David had stitched the cut flesh – there was no doubt this time.  She was coming round.  Miranda bustled from the room – it was time.  
   
 “Amy!”  David’s assertive commands were gradually drawing the injured woman from oblivion.  “Amy, talk to me.”  
One eyelid flickered open before falling closed again.    
“You’ve had an accident.  You’re at the doctor’s.  Look at me, Amy.”  
The right eyelid fluttered again, but the left stayed obdurately shut.  
“Amy,” David shouted.  “Wake up!”  
One unfocused, blue eye peeked out from under light-brown lashes and David smiled.  He was getting through to her at last.  “Amy, I’m Doctor Gibson and you’re in my office.  A shelving unit fell on you.  Do you remember any of that?”  
A guttural groan escaped from her throat.  
“You might find it difficult to talk, Amy, your face was badly bruised, but try.”  
“Aught...”  
“Are you trying to say ‘what?”  
The head moved, almost imperceptibly in a nod.  David turned hopeful eyes on Miranda who stood nearby.  “You can move your head.  That’s good, Amy.  Can you move anything else?”  
The fingers twitched and an alarming whine grew in intensity.  “Does it hurt, Amy?”  David pushed the use of the patient’s name to keep her focused on him.  “I’ll get you something for that,” he frowned and gently folded back the blankets.  “Can you move your toes?”  The little pink digits wiggled obligingly causing David and Miranda to heave a sigh of relief.  “There’s no damage to the spinal column, which is great news, Amy.  What about your legs?”  
Amy’s knees bent but she dropped them back onto the board with a great wail of pain.   
“Where did you feel that?”  David’s brow furrowed in concern.  “Was it your chest?”  
Amy nodded.  “Eesh.”  
“You have some broken ribs.  I’m going to give you some water through a straw, but I want you lie still in case there’s damage to your spine.  I have catheterized you, so you can remain still.  Do you understand?”  
Amy's head moved again in confirmation.  
“Once you’ve had a little water I’ll give you something for the pain.  It’ll make you sleep.”  David’s voice softened.  “Someone will be with you at all times, so if you need anything we’ll be right here.  You’re in good hands, and we’ll get you better.  Just relax and let us take care of you.”  
“Augh aou onee.”  
David and Miranda shared a look of confusion.  “We can’t understand you, Amy.  The swelling around your mouth will reduce in a few days and it’ll be easier.  Just bear with us,” David patted her hand.  “I’ll get that water.”  David glanced at Miranda.  “Get some sleep, I’ll stay with her.  I don’t have a surgery tomorrow.”  
“Are you sure?”  
David nodded.  “Yes, we’ll be taking shifts for a good while yet.  We’d best get sleep while we can.”

The following few days were hard on everyone. The Gibson household was still in a medical shut-down and no one was allowed in to visit. Even Sheriff Jacobs was respectfully but adamantly turned away. Heyes didn't even try as his ego was still bruised from the last encounter with the protective doctor and he was in no hurry to have a repeat.  
One good thing about living on a ranch is that there is always plenty to do. All Heyes seemed to be feeling these days was pain and anxiety and the only way he was able to keep those emotions down to a manageable level was to work—hard! He was up early (still having difficulty sleeping anyways) and doing the morning feeding and pasture turn out long before the first pot of coffee was ready. Before breakfast he had most of the stalls mucked out and water buckets cleaned. After breakfast he was at Jesse's disposal, often riding out to check on the cattle herd or heading off in the opposite direction to do a count on the new foals for the season. Yup; always lots to do on a ranch.  
It was on one such occasion that Beth decided to join her friend on a ride out to check up on the horse herd since seeing the new foals was always a delight. It was also a very beautiful warm Spring day and getting out for a ride on Daisy was all the reason she needed to saddle up and get away from the house for awhile. Even she was beginning to feel the stress of planning a wedding and though she was looking forward to the day itself, she would be quite happy once all the preparation for it was done and behind them.  
Heyes welcomed her company since Jed was busy with other errands that day and would not be joining him. Doing a ride like this by himself always encouraged his mind to settle onto his worries and his worries were wearing him out.   
So, mid-morning, Belle had packed them a lunch, Karma and Daisy were saddled up and the two friends headed out for the north pasture with Ellie in tow. Even she liked to get away from the ranch yard and go for a good stretch of the legs sometimes and an offer to join the humans was very rarely declined. Peanut and Pebbles were quite content to stay home and snooze in the sun.  
Heyes found himself looking with some pride at the fine golden filly that trotted daintily along beside his mare. Even Karma seemed to arch her neck and step a little higher when she had her daughter along with her for a ride. They made a striking pair. He glanced up and then smiled when he found Beth watching him. “She's turned into a real nice horse for you hasn't she?” Heyes commented.  
“Yes!” Beth smiled lovingly and gave her horse a pat on the neck. “I knew it the minute I laid eyes on her that she was special. It's a shame you couldn't have seen her when she was a baby—she was just the cutest thing!”  
Heyes laughed. “I'm sure she was!” he conceded. “I'm glad that all worked out and that your Pa ended up getting the colt that he wanted too.”  
“Ned is going to make a big difference to our horse herd,” Beth informed him. “Papa's going to be leaving him out with the bachelor herd this year and then next Spring he'll be given a few mares of his own and we'll see if the line holds true. I have very little doubt that it will!”  
“Is your Papa going to stand him at stud or just keep him exclusively for the Double J?”  
Beth frowned and contemplated that enquiry. “I'm not sure. We already have a couple of our neighbours wanting to run their mares with him during his maiden season. They're all thinking that once his first crop of foals are on the ground, they're quality will be such that nobody around here will be able to afford his stud fee for the following year!”  
Heyes laughed. “Get in under the wire, so to speak!”  
“Exactly! So, Papa's considering it, but only on the stipulation that they not use their get for breeding. That would undermine our own interests if everyone was breeding from the same line!”  
“Yeah, well that makes sense,” Heyes conceded. “Don't want to flood the market.”  
“No!”  
“Your Papa is lucky to have you Beth,” Heyes told her. “You understand blood lines and breeding and you have a head for business. Those are all valuable assets on a breeding ranch.” Beth sighed and a look of concern flashed across her face. “What?”  
“Oh dear,” Beth chewed her lower lip. “I didn't want to bring this up because you have enough on your mind these days....”  
Heyes felt more worry wash over him. “What is it Beth?” he asked quietly, almost afraid of the answer. “Is the ranch in trouble?”  
“No, no!” Beth assured him. “No, the ranch is doing fine. No, I'm more concerned about Mrs. Oliphant's business.”  
“What about it?” Heyes asked her. “All the items for your wedding are completed. I'm sure she wouldn't mind someone going in there and picking them up.”  
“Oh no, I'm not concerned about that,” Beth insisted almost insulted that her friend would think her concerns to be based on her own self-interests. “No, I mean her business itself. She wasn't here long enough to build up any collateral and now if she is going to be laid up for a couple of months, well that's time lost. She won't have an income and yet the bills still need to be paid.”  
“Oh,” Heyes' expression was one of worried surprise. “I hadn't though of that. But you're right. Hmm. I wonder if there's something we can do to help her out....”  
“Perhaps if we just go in and talk to Mr. Calhoun at the bank,” Beth suggested. “He does seem like a very nice man and he knows that what happened isn't Mrs. Oliphant's fault. She works hard at that shop and if he'll just give her some leeway, he must know she'll make it up.”  
Heyes snorted. “Don't fool yourself. Mr. Calhoun is a nice man when it's to his benefit. He's nice to you and your family because your father owns the largest most successful ranch in the county but to a small business owner like Mrs. Oliphant—he's not going to give her any leeway. If the morgage doesn't get paid he will foreclose. He wouldn't be a banker if he did otherwise.”   
“But that's just not right!” Beth exclaimed. “It's the small business owner who needs the help to get a foothold! Surely Mr. Calhoun.....”  
“Mr. Calhoun doesn't care about that,” Heyes insisted. “He cares about making money for the bank and if he doesn't get his money he will foreclose.” He smiled wickedly. “Why do ya' think me and the Kid didn't mind robbin' from them? They've been robbin' small time hard working folk ever since there was banks to lend ya' money!”  
Beth sent him a sceptical look. “Oh right!” she teased him. “Like that was the only reason!”  
“Well...” Heyes shrugged and grinned. “It's the one I keep tellin' myself.”  
They both laughed and the mood got lightened a little bit. But Heyes soon turned serious again and started to really think about a solution to the problem.  
“I'll talk to Steven,” he finally concluded. “Perhaps if he and I went in to see Mr. Calhoun we could come to some kind of arrangement. It wouldn't do at all for Amy to recover from this only to find her business had gone bankrupt.”  
“You know I never really thought about it before,” Beth admitted. “Things often happen that we don't plan on; illness or injury. Like Papa breaking his leg back at the other place. Of course Bridget and I didn't realize it at the time but Momma and Papa were very worried. If you and Jed hadn't shown up when you did we were very close to loosing the place altogether.”  
“Yeah, I remember your folks talking to us about that,” Heyes recalled. “About how he wanted to move you all to Denver but he couldn't see how; the ranch just wasn't earning enough. And then with that injury on top of it—yes, I can see how that would have made things pretty desperate.”  
“There must be something people can do to make it easier,” Beth surmised, her expression indicating that her mind was off and running with this new idea. “Perhaps if they put a little aside every month, just to have a nest egg in case something like this happens.”  
“It's a good idea Beth,” Heyes agreed. “But you think about it. Most people just starting out in a new business are barely able to make ends meet as it is, let alone putting money aside. And even if Amy had been able to do that, she wasn't in business long enough for it to amount to anything.”  
“Oh but there must be some way!” Beth insisted. She had the seed of an idea and it was frustrating her that the solution to the problem was being so evasive. Finally she heaved a big sigh and relaxed. “I'll figure it out!” she insisted with great confidence. “I just have too many other things on my mind right now what with the wedding and everything. But I'll get there; there just has to be some way to insure that a business isn't going to go out of business simply because of a mean twist of fate!”  
Heyes grinned until his whole face surrendered to it. “I'm sure you will,” he told her. “I can already tell that Jed is going to have a very interesting life with you—and I mean that in the most complimentary way possible!”  
Beth blushed sweetly but smiled back at him and Heyes though again about how lucky his partner was to have found such a match.

Sheriff Jacobs scratched his head in frustration.  “Is she awake this time?  It’s been a week now and I still haven’t been able to talk to her.”  
David pushed a cup of coffee towards the lawman with a grin.  “She’s had a head injury as well as multiple fractures; we’re lucky she’s here at all.” David sat at the kitchen table.  “No luck in your investigation?”  
“No.  The Bamforths vouched for one another, just as I expected and I’ve had telegrams from the man’s lawyer, and from Cage Atwater saying Bamforth’s exactly who he says he is.”  Jacobs shrugged, “But my instincts tell me something’s wrong.  What’s Uranium?  Do you know Doc?”  
David nodded.  “It’s an ore.  It’s used to colour expensive glassware, and they’ve found it can make paint glow in the dark.  It can be quite valuable, and not the kind of thing that brings in unskilled prospectors like gold or silver because it needs to be mined and processed.  Is that what Bamforth’s looking for?”                   
 “Yeah, according to the Pinkertons.”  The sheriff dropped into a seat opposite the doctor.  “So I guess it’s not too ridiculous he has his mother with him if he’s looking to open a mine and a processing business.  He’s not exactly in the same class as a toothless, old coot panning for gold.”   
“So we discount him?” asked David.  
“No,” Jacobs shook his head.  “I have to say I thought a lot of Mrs. Stewart, and she had a saying. ‘I don’t believe in coincidences.’  They turned up at nearly the same time as Mrs. Oliphant, so they stay at the top of my list.”  Jacobs poked a pointed finger on the table to punctuate the last point.  “I’m still looking for a motive, but I can’t narrow one down until I speak to her.”  
“Narrow one down?  You have a theory?”  
“Has Heyes been here?”  
David nodded, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.  “Yes, but I sent him away.  She wasn’t fit for visitors.  He tried to get pushy but I wasn’t having any nonsense from him.  You can’t think he’d do this, Sheriff.”  
Jacobs paused.  “You’re friendly with Heyes and Curry, so I should tell you.  The Pinkertons listened into a conversation Joan Baines had.  The campaign may not be over.  She may have been planning ‘accidents’ to people close to them.  In light of what happened here, you and your family should be careful.”    
“Accidents?”  David’s brows gathered.  “Yes, this was certainly premeditated and made to look like an accident.  You don’t think...?”  
“I can’t assume that’s what’s happened here, Doc.  I need to find out if there’s any other reason.  She had only spoken to Heyes a few times, but they certainly had hit it off.  He says she was helping him get over Mrs. Stewart.”  
David sat back with a sigh.  “Yes, I met Abigail Stewart.  There aren’t many like her, that’s for sure. “  
“Yeah,” Sheriff Jacobs nodded gravely.  “So, how’s Mrs. Oliphant doing?  Will she recover completely?”  
“The concussion is passing, but she’s still in a lot of pain.  I kept her flat and immobile even though she could move all her limbs.  I didn’t want to take the risk of protecting the spinal cord and then have a fracture slice through it by moving her badly.  I finally managed to examine it yesterday as the swelling has started to subside.  I couldn’t find a spinal fracture by palpation so I have allowed her to be propped up today for the first time.”  David gave a smile of relief.  “That was a worry, but she can still move everything.  Paralysis was my biggest worry.”  
“So she’ll be fine?”  
David nodded.  “I think so, eventually.  Her biggest problem is the injury to three limbs.  She can’t use crutches with a broken arm, and it would appear her ankle is broken.  She’s completely immobile.   I did use a violin string placed between her teeth.  We can identify a fractured skull if it rings dull when plucked, but that’s the best I’ve got.  Her skull isn’t fractured.”   
“A violin string?”   
“Yes, the unfractured skull allows it to resonate.   I’d give my eye teeth to be able to see through the skin and identify fractures.  It’d make my life so much easier!”  
Jacob’s mouth twitched into a smile.  “The world of fantasy, huh?  Looking through flesh?”    
David smiled at the lawman.  “The morphine knocks her out.  She’s due another dose in a couple of hours, so you can speak to her soon.  She generally wakes up around an hour and a half before the next one.”  David drained his cup.  “Her lips were so badly swollen she’s been pretty unintelligible, we’re just starting to understand her.  You couldn’t have interviewed her until now.”  He hooked the sheriff’s eye with a rueful gaze.  “And it still won’t be anything too complicated.  Go gently with her, huh?”  
“Off course I will,” Jacobs frowned.  “She’s a victim.  I’m trying to help her.”  
David nodded.  “I know.  I just feel protective towards her.  She has no family, and she’s in a brand new town with nobody to help her.  If she had anyone at all she could be home soon, but I can’t send her anywhere.  She can’t do anything for herself with broken fingers on both hands, broken ribs, a broken arm and a broken ankle.”  
“Yeah, and everyone who met her said she was real sweet too.  If this had happened this time next year I think she’d have lots of friends.  She just never had the chance.  I’ve got to find who did this to her.”           
They turned at Tricia’s head appearing around the kitchen door.  “Amy’s awake.”  
David stood turning back to the sheriff.  “Let me see to her, and if she’s able, you can see her today.”   
   
   
   
Sheriff Jacobs tried to cover his shock as he walked into the Gibson’s spare bedroom.  Amy had been an enticingly, lovely blonde, but the bandage across her face testified to the work David had done on her broken nose, stitches sealed the wound below her swollen, congested lips and she peered at him through bloated, blacked eyes.  He smiled gently.  “Mrs. Oliphant?  I’m Sheriff Jacobs and I want to ask you a few questions about what happened to you.”  
He drew up a seat and flicked open a notebook.   “I’m sorry to have to ask you this, but I need to ask you a few questions about your past.”  
The blue eyes peering over the bandages darkened.  “Bast?” she mumbled.  
“Yes.  I need to ask if you have any enemies.”  
Amy shook her head.  “Mo.”     
Jacobs frowned.  “You come from Chicago.  Do you have any friends you need me to contact?”  
Amy shook her head again. “Mo.”  
“You have no friends?” Jacobs asked.  
“My husmamd was jealous.  I wasm’t allowed fwiemds.”  
Jacobs frowned.  “Your late husband?”  
Amy nodded.  “Yesh.”  
Jacobs pressed on.  “How could he stop you having friends?”  
Amy’s downcast eyes spoke of deep shame.  “He wash jeloush.  Bery jealoush.  It wash eashier dat way.”  
Jacobs silently noted the unspoken subtext.  “He died?”  
“Gribbe.  It went to hish chest.”  
“What did he do for a living?”  
“Accoumtsh cleck at the wailway.”  
Jacobs nodded.  “Did either of you have any enemies?”  
“Ememeesh?”  Amy shook her head.  “Mo.  Why?”  
“It don’t know how to put this in a way that won’t upset you, but we found scratches which show somebody tampered with the shelving unit to make it unstable.  Can you think of any reason why anyone would do that?”  
The blue eyes stared at him, the budding tears doing little to wash away the shock swimming in their depths.  
“Mrs. Oliphant, have you annoyed anyone in town, or could your business have affected anyone else’s income?”  
“Mo!”  Her breath started to come in great gulps before the tears streamed down her face.  “Mo!”  
Every racking sob was accompanied by spasm of pain.  Jacobs stood, suddenly feeling very much out of his depth.  “I’ll get the Doc, huh?  I find them. Ma’am.  I‘ll find out who did this to you, I promise.”       
   
    
      
Randa cast worried eyes at her cousin as she came into the kitchen.  “How is she?”  
Tricia walked over to the range and lifted the tea kettle.  “She’s finally stopped crying.  David was worried about her breathing for a bit.”  She filled the kettle with water and put it back on the stove.  “The drugs are kicking in, she’s nearly asleep.”  
“What kind of dreams is she going to have?  She comes to a new town for a fresh start and somebody tries to kill her.  Who could hate her that much!?”  
Tricia sighed heavily.  “The sheriff told David that whoever was trying to hurt Beth may now be planning on hurting people close to Hannibal and Jed by a series of accidents.”  
Miranda gave a gasp of horror.  “No!  Surely not?”  
“David has warned us all to be on our guard.”  
“But Amy has only just arrived in town, why would anyone target her?”  
Tricia gave Miranda a knowing look.  “Well, you seemed to think they were getting a bit too close too quickly, why wouldn’t someone else?”  
Miranda flushed guiltily.  “I didn’t mean anything by it.  I just didn’t understand why he was spending time with anyone but me.”  
“It could be that someone else thought the same thing.”  
Miranda dropped her head into her hands.  “Oh, the poor thing!  She was rebuilding her life to have this happen.  No wonder she’s distraught.  I have to do something to help her, Tricia.  I came here for the same reason, but I don’t think I could have had her courage to come here all alone and without support like she did.”  
Tricia poured the boiling water into the teapot.  “She has support.  She’s got us, and I know you didn’t mean anything by what you said.  We’ll look after her and show her she did the right thing coming to Brookswood.”  She placed the teacups on the table and smiled.  “Hannibal probably doesn’t feel he can talk about Abi with you, that’s all it’ll have been.”  
Tricia nodded.  “So who could it be?  How can somebody make accidents happen?  This is a small town and strangers stick out like a sore thumb.”  
“I don’t know, but we have to be on our guard.  Just in case.”  Tricia filled the teacup and pushed it across the table to her cousin.  “It could be anybody.”                              

Heyes pulled Karma up at the hitching rail in front of the Gibson residence and his brows creased slightly at the sight of Tricia seated in one of the veranda chairs looking to all intents and purposes; sound asleep. He dismounted and tying the reins to the rail, gave his mare a pat and walked quietly up the steps.   
'Crreeeck!' Heyes froze and cringed; he always forgot about that noisy top step! Tricia stirred and opening her eyes she saw that they had company.  
“Oh Hannibal...” she mumbled, still trying to wake up. “I'm sorry. How silly of me to fall asleep in the middle of the day.”  
Heyes smiled and came the rest of the way onto the porch waving her apology aside. “You must be exhausted. Is Nathaniel running you ragged?”  
Tricia smiled and stretched. “No, he's staying with my mother while we have a patient in the house,” she explained. “No, it's just that we're still taking shifts to watch Amy. She's much better now but still confined to bed. She is so lucky to have survived this without any permanent damage.”  
Heyes nodded and came to sit down on one of the other chairs. “Yeah. I have every confidence in David though; he's got to be about the best doctor I've ever known.”  
“Even better than your friend out at the prison?” Tricia enquired suspiciously.  
“Yeah. Even better than Doc Morin...but don't tell Joe I said that,” Heyes admitted. “Ole' Doc did amazing things with what he had to work with and considering he had no formal training....he was a natural, just like David. But without the education he just wasn't able to attain the same level that David has. He was a good man though....I still miss him.”  
“True friends you never do stop missing,” Tricia commented. “Have you been up to his resting place?”  
Heyes smiled a little abashedly and played with the rim of his hat. “No,” he said. “I know it's silly. I should have gone to visit him ages ago, it's just....”  
Tricia reached over and patted his arm. “It's not silly. You'll go when you're ready. It'll take as long as it takes. Now,” she continued as she pushed herself to her feet. “I know you didn't ride all the way in here to sit with me on the porch. I'll see if Amy has finished her lunch yet.”  
“Oh. Yes, thank you.”  
Heyes followed Tricia through the front door and into the kitchen and waited by the table while she went over to the bedroom door and knocked quietly.   
A soft voice from inside responded. “Yes, come in.”  
Tricia opened the door and poked her head in. “You have a visitor. Are you up to it?”  
Heyes didn't hear the response but Tricia smiled at him and motioned for him to come over.   
He sent a quick look down towards David's office as he approached the bedroom. “Ah, is David here?” he asked a little tentatively.   
“No,” Tricia smiled, knowing where his uneasiness was coming from. “he's out doing his rounds. But don't worry about it Han. Amy is much better than she was a week ago; David won't mind you visiting now.”  
Heyes smiled and came forward. “Oh. Okay.” He stepped into the room and then was brought up short and found himself foolishly feeling a little uncomfortable; like he'd been caught in a lie. “Ah, Miranda. I didn't know you were here. Perhaps, if you're busy I should come back later.”  
Randa smiled up at him and began to collect up the soup dishes and the napkin. “No need,” she assured him. “I was just helping Amy with her lunch.” She stood and with her free hand gave Heyes a reassuring squeeze on his arm. “I'll leave you two alone to visit. If you need anything more Amy, just let us know.”  
“'Ank you.” Her voice was soft and feeble. “You're 'ery 'ind.”  
“About fifteen minutes Hannibal, alright?” Tricia told him. “I don't think she's up for more than that yet.”  
“Oh yeah,” Heyes agreed. “That's fine.”  
The two ladies returned to the kitchen but they left the door ajar in order to keep an eye on things, still feeling somewhat protective of their house guest. Heyes sat down in Miranda's chair and took a good long look at his new friend.   
She still looked as if she had been beaten up with a two x four, and he supposed; in some ways she had been. She looked so small and frail laying there, propped up with pillows with her splinted and bandaged hands resting on top of the quilt. She tried to smile at him but her mouth was still swollen and sore and she couldn't manage much more than a slight grimace. He would have said that her complexion was as white as the pillows around her if it wasn't for all the bruising. Her whole face still looked black and blue and Heyes wondered what she must have looked like a week ago.  
“'ello...” she quietly greeted her visitor. “'Ice of yu' t' 'ume 'isit.”  
Heyes smiled at her attempt at conversation. “Oh that's alright,” he assured her. “I came by earlier in the week but David chased me off. Said you weren't up to visitors yet.”  
Amy frowned, trying to remember 'earlier in the week'. Nothing was coming back to her so she just sighed.  
“I suppose he was probably right,” Heyes continued. “I was just worried about you.”  
Amy attempted to smile again, then groaned at her own stupidity—all it did was cause her pain.  
“Imm 'ine,” she finally forced out.  
“Oh you're fine?” Heyes repeated with raised eyebrows and laughter in his eyes. “You don't look fine to me. You look like you've been down the Colorado River in a barrel.”  
Amy frowned at him, wondering where that analog came from.  
“I once suggested to the Kid that we do that,” Heyes explained. “Looking at you I'm glad we didn't.”  
Amy rolled her eyes, it being about the only facial expression she could muster without it hurting.  
Heyes sighed and turned serious again. He wanted to take her hand in his but he was afraid to touch her; it seemed there wasn't one inch of her that wasn't wrapped in bandages or covered in bruises.  
“Do you have any idea who would do this Amy?” he finally asked her.  
“Oo,” she said, shaking her head and she tried to shrug her shoulders. “'Hy woul' any'un...?”  
“I don't know,” Heyes said. “Someone from your past who may have followed you here. Somebody jealous over your business or about....anything else?”  
Amy frowned and shook her head. “Oo!”  
“Okay,” Heyes nodded and gently touched her arm. “It's alright, don't worry about it. There's plenty of time to discuss that later.” Amy visibly relaxed. “I'm just so relieved that you're going to be alright. Scared the dickens out of me, you know. And then David wouldn't let me in here to see you.....”  
“Imm a'ight.”  
“Yes. Alright.”  
“Hannibal.” Tricia pushed the door open a little bit more. “I think that's enough for now. She should sleep.”  
“Yeah, alright,” Heyes smiled over at the patient. “I'll come by again in a few days.”  
Amy nodded. “'Ank yu.”  
Heyes stood up and went out to the kitchen and Tricia stepped further into the bedroom.  
“Anything you need?” she asked the patient.  
“'Oo.” Amy shook her head and settled back into the pillows. She would probably be asleep with five minutes.  
Tricia left the room and closed the door until it was just ajar and then turned to face the other people in the room. They all looked at each other as silence settled over the group.  
Finally Heyes shook his head. “My God. She's lucky she survived that.”  
“Yes,” Tricia agreed. “There were a few days there when David wasn't so sure she would. It was very close.”  
“It's time for afternoon tea,” Randa observed. “Why don't you stay and join us?”  
“Oh, well....”  
“Please,” Randa persisted. “No pressure. Just sit and relax for a bit. You look done in.”  
“David should be home soon too,” Tricia added. “I know he'll be happy to see you.”  
“Oh well, I don't know about that....”  
Tricia smiled. “Don't worry about what happened last week. David gets very protective of his patients, you shouldn't take it personally.” She rolled her eyes. “You should have seen him with Jed! He was convinced that no other doctor in the west was capable of pulling him through that.”  
“He was right,” Heyes pointed out adamantly.  
Tricia laughed. “That's probably true. Just don't tell him that! But please Hannibal; stay for tea. Let yourself wind down for a bit.”  
“Yes, alright.”

Some hot tea and scones did actually hit the spot and Heyes felt better for it. On another level though, the situation felt strained and the light conversation was forced. Even though Amy seemed to be doing better and through the worst of it, the atmosphere was still one of worry and Heyes knew that his presence was only adding to it.   
He would look at Miranda and know that he had found her very attractive; that he had enjoyed her company a great deal. But now, when he looked at her features and saw her blue eyes glancing back at him, then quickly darting away, it was Abi's features that would take over his vision. Miranda's blue eyes would inevitably morph into Abi's brown and a Scottish accent would invade Heyes' ears even though it was Tricia or Miranda who was speaking.  
This was awkward and, Heyes decided; not fair on these ladies who were already tired from their nursing duties and needed this time for themselves to relax and take some respite. He enjoyed his cup of tea and even had a second but then he thanked the two ladies for their hospitality and pushed himself away from the table in preparation of leaving.  
“Oh.” Miranda almost looked panicked. She quickly sent a glance over to her cousin who nodded acquiescence. A hint of a smile crossed Miranda's face and she reached out a hand and touched Heyes lightly on his arm. “Please Hannibal...wait. I realize I said 'no pressure' and I mean that, but I really think we need to talk.”  
Heyes dropped his eyes from hers and began to feel pressure despite her assurances. “Well...I...ah...”  
“Please Hannibal,” Randa entreated him. “This is getting ridiculous. You're avoiding me on the streets and when we do happen upon one another you can't even look at me. You won't even come over to visit with David for fear of running into me here. Please. Your mare has been waiting patiently for you and there is a lovely gray gelding over at the livery whom I have grown quite fond of. Let's go for a ride, shall we?”  
Heyes took a deep breath then slowly let it out through his nose. She was right; he had been avoiding her, afraid of her expectations. Afraid of arousing those feelings inside of him again, and afraid of those feelings not being real and were just there to hurt him, just like they always did. And the biggest fear of all; the one that he couldn't even admit to himself. The fear that he was no longer even capable of loving another person.  
Finally he nodded and smiled at her a little awkwardly. “Alright,” he conceded. “You get ready and I'll go get your horse for you.”  
Miranda smiled with relief. “Good. His name is Percy.” She frowned as a thought struck her. “Oh dear, I hope he hasn't already been rented for the day; I do so enjoy riding him.”  
“Well, if he is out I'm sure we can find you another mount just for this one time,” Heyes assured her. “I'll see you outside.” 

Heyes was quiet as they casually walked the horses out towards the edge of town; it was one of those rare occurrences in his life when he was at a loss for words. He had no idea what he was suppose to say and since it was Miranda who had suggested the ride he waited a little nervously for her to open up the conversation.   
Miranda rode quietly along beside him, glancing over at him occasionally. She wanted to give him time to settle and for the horses to get them well enough away from curious eyes and even more curious ears. Gossip travelled so fast in these small towns and Heyes had enough on his plate right now without adding more to it. Of course, the further away from town they rode the more suspicious it was going to look so Miranda decided to let it go; let the old busy-bodies think what they wanted to. They were going to do it anyways. At least she and Hannibal would have some privacy.  
They needed the quiet of the bird-song and the gentle caress of the Spring breeze to calm the nerves and help conversation come more easily. Eventually though, she felt they were far enough away from town and she opened up the conversation.  
“I'm sorry that Governor Barber didn't agree to lessen your parole,” she told him, quite sincerely. “It would have made things a lot easier.”

Heyes snorted and then sighed quietly, feeling the regret. “Yeah. I'll say. The ghosts of my past still haunting me I suppose.”

They continued on in silence again, the pain that Heyes was feeling was palpable in the air. Randa reached over and squeezed his hand in simpatico.

“Hannibal, I'm so sorry,” she told him. “I know you loved Abi. I know how much you wanted it to work out between you.”

“Yeah,” Heyes felt his chest tightening but he swallowed it down and gave another sigh instead. “We were so close. I really thought we could be a family....”

They rode on in silence again for a few moments, the soft sound of the horse's hoofs plodding along in the dirt only adding to the quiet of their surroundings. Of course Randa knew that the destruction of Heyes and Abi's intentions could benefit her in the long run but she was too sensitive a soul to feel a rejoicing of it now. Her love for this man riding beside her was so strong that his pain was her pain and she couldn't help but feel for him and his obvious distress.  
Heyes gave another sigh. Now that he was with her and the conversation had opened up, he knew what he wanted to say, he just didn't know how to say it. Randa waited patiently, knowing that he wanted to talk now, but was struggling with it. She listened to the birds in the trees and gave him time.

“I'm hurting, Miranda,” Heyes finally began, quiet and hesitant; almost afraid to speak his feelings out loud. “I never would have thought it possible to be in this much pain and yet still go on breathing. I can't see beyond taking the next breath, I can't plan beyond the next moment. Oh I'm putting on a good show for Kid—it's his wedding coming up, after all!” He smiled quietly and Miranda smiled back, but her eyes were pools of pain and she fought the tears. “I have to hold it together for his wedding. It's important.” 

“Of course it is,” Miranda agreed. “But don't think for a moment that Jed doesn't know what you're going through. He's too close to you Hannibal; he knows you too well.”

“Yes, I suppose,” Heyes conceded. “Still, I won't let my unhappiness ruin his day. I'm happy for him.”

“He and Beth have waited a long time for this.”

“Hmm.”

Miranda continued to wait, knowing there was more to come. Finally Heyes sighed again and seemed ready to carry on with what was on his mind. He smiled and looked over at her and finally, for the first time in a long time he was actually seeing her.

“I know this is hard on you too,” he conceded. “I'm sorry for that. I'm just not able to give you what you want right now.”

“I know that,” Randa assured him. “I knew you'd need time. But then....you started avoiding me and spending time with Amy, and I have to admit....that hurt.”

Heyes swallowed guiltily. “It's nothing,” he insisted. “At least it's not what you think. Amy is someone I can talk to without there being any expectations.” He smiled softly as a memory came to him. “It's like this fella who used to run with the gang, but he wasn't with us full-time. He'd come and go as the mood struck him; a real will-of-the-wisp, you know. So, a lot of us came to feel that we could relax around him, that he wasn't concerned about playing favourites and that he wasn't counting on me or anyone else for that matter to provide him with an income. He managed just fine on his own and when he decided he wanted company well, he'd just ride on in and stay awhile.  
“It got so he became quite popular with everyone, myself included because we all knew that we could talk to him about stuff and he'd hold it in complete confidence. It wasn't that he replaced Jed as my friend and partner, he was just someone else I could talk to. Sometimes it was Jed who I needed to vent about! So having him there and willing to listen became a real asset to the gang.  
“Yeah,” Heyes chuckled. “He wasn't dubbed 'The Preacher' for nothing. He was a decent man and a good friend, despite his tendency to 'over-imbibe.'” The smile dropped from Heyes' face then and his eyes took on a far away look. “He's gone now too,” he added quietly. “Killed that day Morrison took out Devil's Hole. He wasn't even suppose to be there, dammit! He always winters down in New Mexico but for some reason he was with the gang that day, and....”

“Oh Hannibal, I'm so sorry,” Miranda consoled him and meant it. “You've lost so many people, friends and family alike. No wonder you're so closed off all the time.”

Heyes sent her a sharp glance. “Am I?” he asked. A smile tugged at a corner and he nodded. “I suppose I am. But Jed has experienced the same losses, the same heartaches and yet here he is.....”

“Yes! He and Beth are so much in love.” She smiled and even laughed a little bit. “I remember when I first moved here Beth was a little jealous of me. She just couldn't fathom any woman looking at 'her Jed' without being totally smitten with him. But Jed's love for her was so obvious; even if I had been interested she needn't have worried.”

“He's lucky,” Heyes mumbled as he stroked Karma's mane. “He's found love; I envy him that.”

“But you found it too,” Randa pointed out. “and you'll love again—I know you will. You're too passionate a man to deny yourself that. And I suppose I do know now that Amy is just a friend. I suppose I was feeling jealous. Jealous and petty that you were able to talk to her about how you were feeling, but not to me. When she got hurt I felt so bad—so guilty.”

“Why?” Heyes asked her. “You're not responsible for what happened. If there's anything I'm sure of, it's that.”

Randa smiled at him. “Thank you, that means a lot.” She sighed and stroked Percy's mane. “No. I felt guilty because of the things I was thinking about her—and you! The jealous, petty little things I said. That's just not like me at all and I apologize to you Hannibal for the things I was thinking and when Amy is able I will apologize to her as well.”

Heyes nodded and smiled. He thought about her coming back by the shop that day in order to 'check up' on him and the irritation he had felt at her thinking that she had the right. But now he accepted her apology and let that incident go; everyone makes mistakes after all—especially in affairs of the heart.

“Apology accepted,” Heyes assured her.  "You know, Amy told me to speak to you."  
"She did?"

"Yeah," Heyes replied.  "She's a good listener.  She said she could tell you weren't like Isabelle, and I should tell you I wasn't ready.  I guess that's one of the reasons I went to her - she has a knack of helping me to sort out my priorities at a time where nothing much seems to be very straightforward." 

"Now I feel even worse!" groaned Miranda.

Heyes shrugged.  "I think she'll understand.  Make her a cup of tea and she'll soon come around.  I think that's the way to her heart."  
   
Miranda nodded. “So what now?”

Heyes stared off into space, his thoughts going inwards. Images of him and Abi running away together came into the foreground but he pushed them away. His heart so much wanted to believe that it could happen, but a small niggling part of him was already telling him that Abi wouldn't go for it. It would be too dangerous. It was too late for them. “I don't know,” he finally admitted to her. “The pain I'm feeling right now, the sense of loss for Abi and my daughter—it's drowning out all other emotions. I just can't feel anything else.”

“I understand that,” Randa assured him. “When William died I didn't see how it could be possible to ever love anyone else ever again. It'll pass in time.”

“I know.” Heyes turned to her and looked into her dark eyes and saw his own pain reflected there. “Will you be my friend, Randa?” he asked her, with hope in his voice. “Are you willing to wait for me?”

Randa caught that hope and felt it rise up in her throat, threatening to choke her. She smiled and checking Percy to a halt she reached over and cupped his beautiful face in her hand. “Of course I'll wait for you. As long as it takes—as long as you need I will be your friend. Abi was the love of your life, I know that—just as William was the love of mine. But sometimes, the love of your life is not the person you're meant to spend your life with.”

Heyes' face fell apart for an instant and Randa thought he was going to start to cry, but he didn't. He tightened his jaw and swallowed down his emotion. He smiled sadly and nodded. He took her hand away from his face and kissed it gently on the palm before giving it a squeeze and returning it back to her. “Thank you.” he said.

J.J. jiggled his fishing pole in the creek, pouting at the shimmering, silver scales of the fish slinking away from his hook through the crystal-clear water - apparently fish didn’t like cheese anymore than they enjoyed bread.  
The boy glanced around at the grass.  The weather had been dry and he couldn’t find any worms because they were hiding deep under the hard ground.  That beetle he’d found under the stone hadn’t been any use – the bent pin wouldn’t go through hard shell and it had scuttled up the string before advancing down the pole towards him, waving angry antennae and fixing him with black eyes.  J.J. had been real glad nobody had been around to see him give a cry of alarm and retreat from his fishing rod until it beetled off to resume its arthropodic business because it hadn’t been his manliest of moments.  
J.J. gave a sigh and wedged the pole between a pile of rocks.  The way things were going there seemed little danger of a massive fish dragging the thing underwater.  Maybe he could see better from the branches of that tree over there and find out where they were all hiding?  A long, wooden limb hung conveniently over the water, and it was something to do.  His childish mind weighed up the options.  Yeah, it seemed like a great idea, in fact, it’d be stupid not to.  What could go wrong?  
J.J. tilted his head back and surveyed the climb.  It was easy enough, with plenty of forks and footholds so it seemed only a moment before he was stretched out along the long branch with his legs wrapped around it, pushing himself further and further out over the water.  The view from here was wonderful and his eyes widened at the sight of a large fish gliding towards his still dangling hook.  J.J. gave a gasp of anticipation as the creature started to nibble at the bait.  Oh, he was gonna get one after all, but he had to get to that fishing pole!    
He shuffled backwards as quickly as he could, causing the limb to sway, his stomach sinking at the sickening cracking sound behind him.  He hastened his movements, desperate to get to safety but the branch dropped and the sound of splitting and splintering wood filled his ears before a tumbling J.J. found the water rushing towards him as his swirling arms grasped at fresh air.   
It was a lot colder than it looked, the spring melt still dropping the temperature in the deep pools to the point where the shocked child was robbed of the little air already in his lungs.  His boots and clothes became dead weights, filling with water which dragged him to the stony river bed.  Panic spiralled in his chest, mingling with the pain of his bursting lungs as he flailed about helplessly, unable to find any purchase to get him to the surface.    
Gurgling bubbles filled his ears as every nerve in his body screamed for oxygen, his clasping fingers only reaching liquid which dissipated through his frenzied fingers while his heavy booted feet anchored him to the bottom.  J.J’s lips opened and the last remaining bubbles of life drifted aimlessly to the surface.  The pain in his chest became too great - the child passed out and gave in to watery oblivion, only his blond hair moving as it waved in the current like weed.  
   
He couldn’t be in heaven, but this was all very confusing.  J.J.’s eye opened a crack – yes, that was grass tickling his face, and if he wasn’t very much mistaken, that ugly beetle was just a few inches away examining the watching blue eye malevolently.  He felt pressure on his ribcage and the lump in his throat rose to his mouth before he violently spewed it onto the grass.  
“Good boy,” he heard an unknown female voice reassuring him.  “Breathe, come on – breathe for me.”  J.J. started to cough as a hand banged him square on his back.  “That’s it, get it all up.”     
J.J.’s breakfast turbulently joined the creek water on the grass as gentle arms gathered him up.   “Don’t try to talk.  I think you’ll be fine, but just take a minute.”  
The boy was turned and now he thought he surely must be in heaven.  She was so beautiful she must be an angel.  A halo of bright light softened the edges and picked up the golden highlights which shone through her caramel hair, but the huge, green eyes staring deeply into his promised endless compassion and kindness.  Her white clothes were like nothing he’d ever seen before, they clung and had a translucence which made the boy feel things which may not have been righteous, but were definitely heavenly.    
“What’s your name?” she asked.  
“Jay...” a paroxysm of coughing carried off the rest of the sentence.  
“Good, you can talk.  You’ll be fine.”  She moved and the picture changed along with his perspective.  He wasn’t in paradise – he was on the bank of the creek and the pretty lady wasn’t dressed in diaphanous robes – she was in her underwear, and the dankness made the fabric cling to her flesh.  J.J. gulped heavily.  He had never seen anything like it, the closest he’d come was seeing his mother’s underwear fluttering on the washing line, and it certainly hadn’t affected him like this.  Why?  He’d never experienced anything like these feelings before.  Was this the one of those ‘crushes’ his mother had talked about?              
“J.J.!?”  
Everyone turned to look at the long-legged figure who stood with his hands on his hips at the top of the bank.  
“Uncle Jed...”  
“What in darnation happened here?”  A pair of intense, blue eyes left the bedraggled boy and settled on the woman who clutched up her discarded skirts in obvious embarrassment.   
She wrapped the fabric around her and held his stare with a disarming boldness.  “He fell in.”  She threw out an arm in the direction of the tree.  He was climbing up that thing and the branch broke.  It was a good thing I was here.  He almost drowned.”  
It was now J.J’s turn for the scrutiny.  “Is that true?”  
J.J. shrugged.  “I guess.  I did fall in from the tree.  I don’t know how I got out.”    
“I jumped in and dragged you out.”  She lifted her chin in indignation and levelled her remarkable eyes on the Kid.  “Do you mind!?  I’m almost naked here.  Turn around, I want to get dressed.”  
The Kid nodded and strode over to the boy.  “Sure, once I make sure he’s alright.”  
“I’m fine,” croaked J.J.   
The Kid checked out all the obvious areas and appendages before glancing up at the woman.  “Thanks, that could have been a lot nastier.  What’s your name?”  
She pulled her clothes higher; clearly disturbed by the way the wet fabric of her chemise insisted on clinging to her breasts.  “Turn around!”  
The Kid smiled and nodded.  “Sure, but then we need to talk.”   He obligingly sat beside J.J. and made sure both their backs were presented to the woman.  He glanced down, smiling discretely, before grasping  the crown of J.J.’s blond head and turning it firmly back around to face the front.  The boy was clearly growing up faster than he thought.  
“What’s your name?” the Kid repeated, staring gallantly ahead.  
“Elise.”  
“Alice?”  
“Elise,” she repeated.  “It’s French, I’m Canadian.”  
The Kid frowned.  “You’re a long way from home.”  
“I guess I have no sense of direction, huh?”  
“What are you doin’ way out here?”  
“Exploring – and I’m glad I did.  Poor Jay might have drowned.”  
“J.J.”  
“Huh?”  
“J.J.  Everyone calls him J.J.”  
“Can I turn around yet?” the boy asked, hopefully.  
“No!” Elise exclaimed.  “I’ll tell you when I’m ready.  Stay where you are.”  
“What’s a woman doin’ all the way out here alone, ma’am?” the Kid queried.  
“Riding , exploring – swimming too, but that bit wasn’t exactly planned,” she replied.  
“This is private land, you know.”  
The Kid could hear the tinkle of laughter in her voice as she responded.  “That’s alright, I’m a very private person.”   
“We owe you a debt of gratitude.  You will come back to the house, won’t you?  I’m sure his ma will want to make a fuss of you,” the Kid gave J.J. a hug, “after she decides what to do with this one for bein’ so darned stupid.”  
“I can’t.”  Her voice suddenly came from a different direction.  “I have to get back, but for heaven’s sake, keep an eye on him, won’t you?”   
The Kid swung around just in time to see her throwing a leg over the sorrel tied to a nearby tree.  “Wait!”  
Elise gathered the reins and kicked her mount into action, just in time to whirl away from the Kid’s grasping hand.  “Sorry, can’t stay.”  
A frustrated Kid watched her gallop off towards the tree line, in the direction of the road into town.  Who the hell was she and why would she disappear like that after a ducking in the creek?  He glanced down at the boy at his side, soaked to the skin.  He had to get him home, but tomorrow he was heading into town to find out why this woman had been hanging around here and just why she had to leave so fast.  
“Uncle Jed, will we ever see Elsie again?””  
He smiled down at the boy.  “Elsie?  It’s pronounced Elise, J.J.”  
The boy nodded earnestly, staring at the departing angel on horseback.  “Yeah.  Elsie – what a beautiful name!”           

 

Valentine Bamforth’s grey eyes slid from side to side in the darkness of the alley, his hand working quietly at the door; the lock pick darted deftly about, manipulating the tumblers until the doorknob turned in his grasp and opened with the merest creak of protest.  He ghosted inside closing it quietly behind him.   
Bamforth crouched and took out his tinderbox, striking the stone until the sparks turned into a fledgling flame which allowed him to light a taper.  He opened the little flaps on his dark light, designed specifically to target light on a single area without showing any extraneous glow which might lead to the discovery of nefarious intruders.  
He looked around the simple, little room.  A brass bedstead sat against the far wall, neatly made with a brightly coloured quilt topped off by white pillows.  Valentine turned the lamp to view the room - a rocking chair sat in front of a pot-bellied stove and the door to the little kitchen area, which also doubled as the back shop to Amy’s millinery business.  Valentine already knew what lay in the hat shop; he had peered through the large shop window along with most of the populace of Brookswood.  What he wanted wouldn’t be sitting in a shop window.  He walked over to the bed and placed his light on the cheap wooden chair which doubled as a bedside table.  It was time to start searching.   


	15. Green Shoots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heyes and Jed confront the mysterious lady in town  
> Amy is on the mend  
> Heyes and Randa's friendship grows.

Green Shoots

   
Belle stared in horror at both Jed and her son, her emotions still spiralling after processing the news of her son’s narrow escape from a watery grave.  Her reaction had been primal; cuddling him tightly to her breast whilst berating her offspring in deeply impassioned whispers.  The child seemed to be relatively unaffected by the whole thing, not realising the gravity of his accident but the mystery woman was another matter.   
He could not shut up about her.  “Mama, you should have seen her!  I couldn’t take my eyes off her - not until she made me so she could get dressed.”       
Belle released J.J.  “She was naked!”          
The Kid shook his head.  “Nah, she was wearing her underwear.”      
“Her underwear!” gasped Beth  
Despite his ordeal J.J. seemed to be unable to remove the silly grin from his face.  “Yeah, but it was all wet, and you could see...”  
“That’s enough!”  Belle’s voice went up an octave, all of a pother at the events.  She glanced at her husband who was finding J.J.’s infatuation annoyingly amusing.  “Upstairs, young man and into your night clothes.”  
J.J.’s eyes widened to globes of hurt.  “But, Mama, it’s only lunchtime.”  
“Yes, and you are going straight to bed after you’ve eaten.  You could have caught your death of cold in that water, not to mention...”  Belle gulped down a sob and a trembling hand came up to cover her mouth.  “Look at what could have happened.  You stay around the house from now on unless you have an adult with you.”  
J.J. gave a wail of despair.  “But...”  
“No arguments.  You could have been killed.”  
“It was an accident, Belle.  It wasn’t,” the Kid shrugged.  “it wasn’t a case of, well, you know...”  
“No?”  The ever-stoic Belle was starting to show the strain of what seemed to be a runaway train of stresses.  “Who was that woman?  Why was she on our land, watching my son?”  
“In her underwear,” J.J. added, unhelpfully, but chirpily.  
The Kid shrugged.  “I dunno, but I’ll ride into town and find out.”     
“I'm not so sure about that!” Beth snapped.  “What kind of a woman in she to be running around in her underwear!”  
“She got dressed,” the Kid protested, “and she only took off her dress to jump in the creek.”  
“Yeah,” J.J.’s smile widened so far his cheeks must have been aching.  “She’s so brave.  She’s wonderful.”  
Beth was noticeably uncomfortable with this whole issue.  “But still....can't you just let Hannibal look for her?.”    
Jed shook his head.  “He doesn’t know what she looks like.”  
“I do,” J.J. volunteered.  “She’s beautiful, with great, big...”  
Belle cut him off.   “Upstairs, young man.  Now!”   
“...eyes,” J.J. continued.  “She had big, green eyes.  I’ve never seen anyone like her, she’s like a dream.”  The boy’s musings were cut short by his mother grabbing his hand and dragging him up the staircase.  
“A dream?” chortled Jesse.  “Was she as pretty as he seems to think?”  
The Kid darted a glance at his simmering fiancé.  “Pretty enough, but no match for Beth.”  
“Are you sure?” she asked him and smiled cheekily.  “Maybe I should parade around in my underwear too?  It seems to grab your attention.”  
The Kid fixed her with a hard stare.  “Over my dead body.”  
Jesses’ pensive eyes drifted up to the ceiling, ignoring the burgeoning jealously between the young couple.  “Who is she?  What did she want?”  
Kid pulled his warning gaze away from his pouting fiancee and turned his attention back to Jesse. “She said she was exploring,” He shrugged.  “I guess it’s lucky for us that she was.  I doubt there’s anything sinister about her, or she wouldn’t have pulled him out.”  
“All the way from Canada!  What kind of woman strips down to her underwear in broad daylight anyway?” Beth was trying to be reasonable but finding it very difficult.  
“One who’s seen a little boy fall in a river and who doesn’t want to get dragged to the bottom by the weight of her clothing?” Jesse suggested.  “How about Jed and me go into town and try to find her?  I owe her the biggest 'thank you' I ever gave anyone.  There can’t be many wet Canadians walking the streets of Brookswood.  She shouldn’t be too hard to find.”  

   
 “A sorrel?  Yeah, sure, I let Falla out to a woman.”  Eric Schulmeyer toyed idly with the currycomb in his hand and glanced around the stable.  “That one over there.  She came back just before twelve,” a grin twitched at his lips.  “Her hair was soaking wet, but her clothes were dry and it ain’t rained for days.  I did wonder what she’d been up to.”  
“Have you got a name?” Jesse asked.  “She pulled little J.J. out of the creek, and I want to thank her.”  
“She said she was stayin’ at the hotel.”  Eric walked over to the clipboard on a hook by the door.  “She wrote it down, here it is... Dag... da... dagnabbit!  How do you say that?”  
Eric held out the paperwork where the name ‘Miss E. Daignault’ was printed beside a florid signature.  Jesse and Jed exchanged a look of confusion.   
“No idea,” Jesse declared, “but we know where she’s staying.  Thanks Eric, we’ll head over to the hotel.”  
   
 The clerk shook his head.  “There ain’t nobody here of that name.”  
The Kid frowned. “We’re probably saying it wrong.  Dagnoot?  Dagnalt, damn it!  Have you anyone with a French name?”  
“Nope.”  The clerk ran a finger down the register.  “I got a Schultz.  Is that any good to you?”  
“That’s German.  Is she a pretty, young woman?”  
The clerk raised his eyes to Jesse in answer.  “He’s a lumber merchant, with crumbs in his moustache.”  
“Then why’d you bring him up, for heaven’s sake!” the Kid exclaimed.  
The man shrugged.  “It’s a foreign name.  It’s the only one I got.”   
“What about that one?”  The Kid’s long finger rested on the name ‘Spadaccini.’  “That’s foreign.”  
“No it ain’t,” the clerk drew himself up to his full five foot four.  “It’s Italian.”  
“Well, that’s foreign, ain’t it?”  
“No.  I’m Italian,” the clerk pointed to his chest.  “Alberto Pazzano, foreigners are what you ain’t.  Don’t you know anything?”  
“Well, I ain’t Italian,” snorted the Kid.  “I’m Irish.”  
“And my folks were English,” grinned Jesse.  “I guess we’re all foreigners.  What does Spadaccini look like?”  
“It ain’t her.  Spadaccini’s nearly six foot and his eyes ain’t green.”  
The Kid leaned heavily on the desk and gave the obtuse clerk a sigh of exasperation.  “Do you have any young women in the hotel – of any name?”  
“Nope.  Just Mrs. Bamforth and she’s gotta be in her sixties.”  
“Has anyone checked out?” Jesse queried.  
“Just a couple of fellas,” Alberto replied.  “We ain’t had a young woman stayin’ here since last month, and she was with her husband.”  
Jesse scratched his chin.  “Eric showed us his paperwork.  She signed to say she was staying at the hotel not more than an hour ago.  Why would she lie?”  
Alberto leaned on one elbow, dropping his voice conspiratorially.  “Maybe she’s plannin’ on stealin a horse?”  
Cynical blue eyes twinkled back at him.  “Then why’d she bring it back?”  
“She could be lullin’ him into a false sense of security.  Keep hiring the thing then – wham!” Alberto slapped the wooden top.  “It’s gone when you least expect it!”  
Jesse and Jed shared a look before the Kid arched one eyebrow.  “You don’t get out from behind that counter much, do you?”  
“Not much, no,” Alberto admitted.   
“Take it from me, as an ex-outlaw – it’s not the best criminal plan I ever heard.”  
Alberto stood back up with a smile.  “I’m not surprised.  I don’t want to bang my own trumpet, but I’m an honest man – always have been.”  His brow creased slightly as worried eyes darted at Jed.  “No offence.”  
“None taken,” Jed grinned.  “My grandpa would have said there’s a great deal of sense outside that head of yours.”    
“Why, thank you,” Alberto smiled.  “I do my best.”  
“I know.  That’s the tragedy of it all.”  The Kid turned to Jesse.  “What now?  How about the saloon?”  
“I doubt we’ll find her there,” murmured Jesse.  
“I know, but I saw her, and I didn’t want to upset Beth so I downplayed things a bit – and any man who laid eyes on Elise wouldn’t forget her in a hurry.  Let’s see if anyone there can help?”            
        
 David appeared at Amy’s bedside pushing a raffia chair on wheels.  It had been two weeks since the accident and her swollen lips and bruises had subsided considerably.  “Look at what Mrs. Cranford has given us.  Her late father used this in his final years.  You can get out of that bed, maybe even get a little sun on the porch; how does that sound?”  
Amy’s eyes brightened.  “For me?”  
“To borrow, certainly.”  David gave her a twinkle of professional positivity.  “You can’t keep it because you won’t need to.  I’m going to get you back on those feet of yours and you’ll be making hats again before you know it.”  He patted the back of the wheelchair proprietarily.  “I’ll need it for other patients.”  
A smile beamed in the blue eyes.  “The sun?”  She sighed wistfully.  “I never thought I’d feel it again.”  
David nodded.  “You like the idea of some sun and fresh air?  Great, let’s get you up.  I think Tricia would like to take tea with you on the porch; then you could have a read?”  
“Ooh yes!  That sounds wonderful.”  
“I bet it does, you haven’t been outside for two weeks.  I would have carried you out but it’d probably be too painful with those ribs.  This way it’ll be a bit of pain and then you can relax in the chair.”  
“You have all been so kind.”  Amy dropped her head.  “I need to ask you though; it’s been worrying me...”  
“What?”  
“How can I pay you for all of this?”  
David frowned.  “Have I asked you for any money?  Don’t worry about that.  I have many patients who pay me a little at a time.  We’ll sort something out.”   
“But my shop.  It hasn’t made a penny yet.  I don’t have any money.”  Amy’s face swirled with guilt.  “This is your job, and you’ve done so much for me, you deserve to be paid.”  
“And I’m sure you will,” David gave her a compassionate smile.  “I get the feeling you’ll be in Brookswood for a very long time to come.  Once you get on your feet again you can pay me what you can.  I can wait.  I don’t do this for the money.”  
“You saved my life.  I need to repay you.”  
“Then get better and live a happy, full life.  That’s a doctor’s best reward.”  David stood over the bed, ready to lift her into the chair.  “Brace yourself, this is going to hurt, but Tricia’s got the tea made and we don’t want it to get cold, do we?”  
“No, we certainly don’t.”  Amy gasped as the now familiar pain ripped through her.  “Ahh!”  
“There,” David deposited her on the wheelchair before bending to adjust the leg rests so her broken ankle was elevated.  “Which is your book?  This one?”  He dropped it onto her lap.  “We’ll grab a couple of cushions on the way out.  Don’t be surprised if this feels like you’ve had a huge adventure by the time you get back to bed tonight, but it’ll do you good to start moving around, even just a little.  It’ll get the blood flowing.”    
   
 Tricia placed the little table beside Amy and moved her drink within easy reach.  Amy had progressed from using the spouted feeder cup, which would allow people to drink lying down, to a mug which had a handle large enough for her splinted fingers to lace through the handle.  At least her left arm wasn’t broken and she was able to hold a cup or a book, supporting the arm with a cushion to save too much pressure on her chest.  Somehow, they were the worst.  She couldn’t move without an explosion of agony.  Who knew broken ribs were so debilitating?  
Tricia took her own cup and sat opposite.  “Well, this is nice,” she sipped at her tea.  “Outside on the porch.”  
“Almost normal,” agreed Amy, “except for the splints and the wheels.”  
“Temporary,” Tricia smiled.  “You wait; you’ve turned the corner now.  It’s just a matter of time.”  
Both women turned to look at Miranda who walked out bearing a plate with delicate slices of ginger cake and Madeira fingers.  She held it up triumphantly.  “This felt like a celebration to me.  I thought we needed cake.”  
Amy smiled.  “It does, doesn’t it?  Thank you for caring.”  
Miranda placed some titbits on a side plate and made sure it was within Amy’s reach before taking a seat to her left.  “The whole town feels for you.  Your business had so much promise, and all the ladies were delighted to have you here, then this happens.”  Miranda lifted the pot and poured herself a cup of tea.  “I’m sure we’ll all be very pleased when you can open again.  When you’re well enough we’ll have a little get together so you’ll realize how much goodwill there is.  David doesn’t think you’re ready for too many visitors just yet.”  
“Why?”  
“It’ll tire you,” smiled Tricia.  
“No, why would people care?”  
Tricia and Miranda shared a look of surprise.  Miranda put down her cup.  “Why not?  Any woman can relate to your story, but I doubt most of us would have your courage, to come all the way out here and make a fresh start.  You are quite inspirational, you know.”       
“I am?”  
Both women laughed at Amy’s complete amazement.  “Yes,” Tricia laughed.  “You are.”  
“Oh!”  Amy’s eyebrows gathered in confusion.  “I was never that type.  Nobody ever really noticed me.  Except for Harold, he noticed me but I was always sort of... invisible to everyone else.”  
“Maybe your Harold was such a big character you never had the chance to shine,” Tricia ventured.  
“Yes, he was... big,” Amy replied, heavily, a lost look washing over her.  
The cousins exchanged a glance before Miranda cautiously spoke.  “Well, life has moved on and you have made quite an impression.”  
“Yes,” Amy sighed, “and that’s why I don’t think I can stay here.”  
Tricia gave a cry of dismay.  “No!  Why ever not.”  
“Somebody did this to me.  Maybe it’s better to be invisible again than attract that kind of hatred.”  Amy shook her head.  “I can’t stay where I’m clearly despised.”  
Miranda reached out and placed a gentle hand on Amy’s knee.  “No, please stay.  This may not have been anything to do with you.  You know the sheriff’s looking at the option of it being someone who may not have liked you getting close to Hannibal.”  
“I know... but all I did was have a few cups of tea with somebody in need of a chat, and this happens?”  Amy’s eyes dropped.  “I can’t stay.  I’m not proud of it, but I’ve never been very brave.”  
“Look,” Miranda smiled gently.  “You’re in no position to go anywhere right now, so let’s give it time.”  She sat back and lifted her cup again.  “But I can’t agree with you.  You are one of the bravest women I know.  You came all the way out here, you knew nobody, and you didn’t even look for the safety of being employed in an established business.  I could never have done that.”  
Tricia and Miranda watched the doubt on Amy’s face before Miranda continued.  “Besides, the whole town is behind you now.  You couldn’t get better goodwill for a new business than you have here.”  Miranda paused.  “And I owe you an apology.  I did think you had set your cap at Hannibal, and I suppose I got a bit jealous.  I now realise how stupid I was being.  He told me that you encouraged him to talk to me.  I suppose I just felt a bit hurt that he wouldn’t speak to me and got things out of perspective.  Can you forgive me?”  
Amy’s brows arched in surprise.  “Forgive you?  There’s nothing to forgive.”  She shrugged.  “You acted like any rejected friend would, that’s why I told him to talk to you.  He wasn’t cutting you out, he was just afraid.  I told him to face that fear.”  She smiled.  “You know what men are like with emotions.  Goodness, they’d rather wrestle a bear with their bare hands than deal with an upset woman!  That part of them is always like a little boy.”  
Miranda heaved a sigh of relief.  “Thank you.  Now you do realise that whoever did this will also know you’re not seeing Hannibal after all, don’t you?  Please stay, Amy.  Give the town the chance to make up for this.”  
Amy lifted her cup to her lips.  “We’ll see.  As I said, I’ve never been very brave.  I just can’t see a future here, and that’s such a shame.  It is a lovely, little town.”   
   
 “Uncle Jed?”  J.J. peered against the strong sunlight from under a shielding hand, “There’s Elsie!”  
The Kid rolled his eyes.  “Again?  Look, it’s been a week since she pulled you outta the creek and you can hardly talk about anything else.  I wish I’d never brought you to town.  You’ve seen her three times on the way here.  The last time it was washing on a line.”  
 Heyes turned to smile at the boy who had thrust his head between the men from his vantage point at the back of the wagon.  “She’s real special, isn’t she, this Elsie?”  
“She sure is.  Uncle Jed saw her too.  Ask him.”  
Heyes’ lascivious eyes slid towards his grinning partner.  “He already told me.  He said she was real pretty.”  
“See for yourself, that’s her.”  
Heyes followed the boy’s pointing finger over to the sidewalk to where a stunning woman was remonstrating with a man.  Not just any man – she was arguing with Valentine Bamforth, a pointed finger waving in his face.  Heyes sat bolt upright.  “Are you sure?”  
The Kid drew the wagon to a halt.  “Yeah, that is her!”  
Heyes didn’t hesitate.  He leaped from the vehicle and strode towards the altercating couple, quickly overtaken by a keen J.J.  The green eyes flashed in Heyes’ direction and she turned abruptly, bustling towards a nearby alley.  The Kid tethered the wagon, and was soon loping alongside his partner who increased his pace to keep up with the woman.  She wasn’t quite running, but she was certainly shifting at quite a rate.   
“Can I help you?”  Valentine Bamforth loomed up in front of them, blocking their way.   
“No,” Heyes snapped.  “Get out of the way.”  
Elise was taking advantage of the intervention, glancing over her shoulder at the partners before she disappeared around the corner.  
“But you jumped off the wagon and headed straight for me,” Valentine frowned.  “I saw you.”  
“We wanted to talk to that woman,” Heyes made to step passed the man, but he was irritatingly insistent, stepping to the side maintaining his obstruction.  
“I saw you!  You practically ran at me.  I’m no coward, and considering you as near as dammit threatened me the last time we met, I’ll have you know I won’t tolerate any nonsense from you, Mr. Heyes.”  
The Kid darted around Bamforth, going into a jog as he tried to keep up with the scampering boy who was fixed upon the object of his affection.  J.J scurried around the corner.  “Elsie!  It’s me, J.J.  Remember me? ”  
“I’m not interested in you, Bamforth,” Heyes barked at the man still loitering about in front of him.  “If you don’t move, I’ll crack you on the jaw.”  
Bamforth’s mouth set in a line.  “Violence?  Is that your answer to everything?”  
“No, just some really annoying things!”  Heyes glanced over at his partner who stood at the corner, shaking his head to indicate that she’d disappeared.  “Who was that woman you were speaking to?”  
Bamforth scowled.  “I just bumped into her by mistake.  She’s as rude as you are.”  
“So you never saw her before?”  
The grey eyes hardened to glistening pebbles.   “Listen, Heyes, you’re the one who jumped from a wagon and ran at me.  Where do you get off asking me questions?  Get out of my way.  I have to collect my mother from church.”  Bamforth gave a huff of irritation and strode off.  
“What was all that about?” the Kid demanded.   
Heyes tilted his hat back on his head distractedly.  “That was Bamforth – you know, the stranger who arrived about the same time as Amy?  He thought I was hurrying towards him.”  
“The prospector?  Why would he care about that?”  
“I did warn him that Amy has friends in this town and that I thought he was involved in her accident, so I can understand him getting worried about me jumping from a wagon and running in his direction.”  Heyes narrowed his eyes and stared down the alley to where J.J. was calling for ‘Elsie.’  “What would she come down here for?  That lady is acting real suspicious.”  
The Kid nodded.  “Just like someone who isn’t too keen on answering any questions, huh?”  
“Well, we’d know all about that, wouldn’t we?” Heyes grinned.  “Let’s see where this goes.”  
   
 They found J.J. at the other end of the alley.  
“Which way’d she go?” the Kid asked.  
“I don’t know,” the boy’s bottom lip protruded with hurt.  “Why doesn’t she want to speak to me?”  
“I’m sure it’s not you, J.J.”  The partners exchanged a look as the Kid crouched down to smile at him.  “She’s probably just kinda shy.”  
Heyes looked around at the wall of back doors facing them.  The front of these buildings made up Seward Street, which was nearly as long as Main Street.  It held many of the newer shops, the Church, the new school and headed straight down towards the railway station.  “She could have gone anywhere,” muttered Heyes.  “She looked straight at me and made a break for it.  How would she even know what I look like?  I’ve never seen her before in my life.”  
“I don’t like this.  Not one little bit,” the Kid replied.  “This is gettin’ fishier by the moment.  D’ya think she knows Bamforth?  She was with him, and it looked to me like he was tryin’ to stop us gettin’ to her.”  
“Could be.  Just who is she?”  Heyes walked along glancing at the spaces between the buildings where Elise could have made her way to Seward Street to mingle with the shoppers.  “Let’s get down there and see if we can spot her.”  
   
The partners strolled casually down the sidewalk of a sunny Seward Street, watching J.J. trot ahead and dart into shops in search of the object his affections.  
“What if Bamforth has friends and one of them was watching J.J.,” the Kid mused, quietly.  
“She saved him though.”  Heyes watched the boy push open the door of a haberdashery shop.  “What if she’s against Bamforth and he knows it?  They were clearly arguing.”  
“Then why go to these lengths to hide from us?”  The Kid folded his arms, waiting for J.J. to come out of the shop.  “Surely she’d be on the same side as us.”  
A mischievous smile dimpled Heyes face.  “Maybe she’s upset.  She has a beautiful French name and we’ve ended up calling her Elsie Dagnabbit.”  
The Kid chuckled lightly.  “We’ve got to call her somethin’, how would you say her name?”  
“Search me, French was more Abi’s territory.”  Heyes' gaze landed on a pair on the opposite sidewalk.  “There’s Bamforth, and I guess that’s his mother.  He did say he was going to collect her from church.”  
The cousins stared over at the pair; Bamforth’s tiny, grey-haired mother holding on to her son’s arm.  “For two cents I’d take him somewhere quiet to find out exactly what he’s up to,” Heyes hissed under his breath, “but I’m on a warning to be on my best behaviour.”            
“Uh huh, but I ain’t,” the Kid agreed.  “He’s with his ma right now, this ain’t the time.”  J.J. joined them before running off to check the shoe shop next door.  “Maybe it’d be a good idea to stake out the stables until her next ride.  Let’s see what Elsie Dagnabbit has to say for herself when she’s got nowhere to run?”     
“One thing at a time, huh?  Beth’ll skin you alive if she finds out, Kid.”  
“Yeah, all she’ll know is what we find out. D’you want to grab J.J. and we’ll head to the stables?  Let’s find out what time she usually goes out.”       
   
Heyes watched the little mare trot passed his hiding place.  He gave a wry smile and urged Karma to fall in behind Elise after a suitable distance.  She seemed to especially like the sorrel, asking for it every day, but Elise was so petite Falla was probably the best sized mount for her in the stable.   
They were on the road to the Double J. sure enough and Heyes felt the tingle of anticipation at being involved in an intrigue again.  It wasn’t just the sparkling morning sun, the bright, clear air or the chirping of the birds dashing around to collect buzzing insects; he was being challenged again and no matter how small that stimulation was, it got his blood flowing in a way he hadn’t felt for so long.   
He continued along, suddenly realising that he felt happy.  Abi had told him there were times when the fog would lift and he’d suddenly feel alive again.  She’d also told him they’d get more frequent.  Was this one of those moments?  He sighed, a pang of pain reminding him of his loss.  Was she feeling the same?   
Once the wedding was over he’d decide what he was going to do.  One step at a time seemed to be keeping him in a more positive frame of mind, and there was plenty to keep him busy in the meantime.  At least most of his dreams were pleasant - filled with love, laughter and memories of all the best times. He frowned briefly at the memory of some of the not so pleasant dreams he'd been having but quickly pushed them away. He didn't want to deal with the bad one's so he hung onto the good one's. Abi promised him he’d have those again, and he knew that she was right.  Today he could see the road ahead of him – but tomorrow?  Maybe it’d be a mountain again, but bit by bit he was getting back the strength to climb.   
He dragged himself back to the moment, his dark eyes fixed on the woman ahead.  They were nearly at the ambush point, time to get off the road and circle around to lie in wait at the bend.  He had to hurry.  She was far enough ahead as it was.   
   
“Good Mornin’, Elise,” the Kid smiled graciously at the woman who stopped short at the sight of the mounted ex-outlaw blocking her way.  “Explorin’ again?”  
Elise’s mouth firmed into a line.  She paused, clearly assessing her chances of outrunning a much larger animal on her little mare, but any chance was abruptly cut off by the voice behind her.  
“Lovely to meet you at last, ma’am,” Heyes flashed his most charming smile and tipped his hat at the woman who whirled around to glare at him.  “I’ve heard so much about you.  In fact, I’d go so far as to say I heard little else.  You made quite the impression.”  Heyes guided Karma alongside and took the reins from Elise’s hands.  “I have to say you live up to every word.”  
Elise gave a sigh of resignation.  “Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry are accosting women on the road now?  Really?”  
The Kid’s brows arched.  “You know who were are?”  
“Everyone around here knows who you are.”  Elise smiled brightly.  “How’s Jay?”  
“J.J. is fine.”  The Kid tugged at his reins and rode on, followed by Heyes leading Elise behind them.  He turned back, speaking over his shoulder.  “Let’s have a chat, but the road is too public.  We don’t want anyone else to come along, do we?”  
“Don’t we?  It’s all a matter of perspective, isn’t it?” quipped Elise.  
“You’re a cool one, aren’t you, Miss...?”  Heyes paused groping around for the right pronunciation.    
“Daignault.  Elise Daignault.”  
“Say that again, slowly.  How do you pronounce your name?”  
“ELEESE,” she mouthed, slowly.  
“No, the second one,” Heyes pushed.  
“Oh, does it matter?  I’m sure that’s not the reason you’re kidnapping me.  What do you want?”  
“Answers, ma’am.”  Heyes looked deeply into her verdant eyes, “like who you are, why you’re hanging around this area, and why you run like scared rabbit when anyone looks even close to asking those questions.”  
“A scared rabbit?  I resent that.”  Elise pouted.  “Couldn’t you have gone for something more elegant like a gazelle?”  
Heyes dimples deepened.  “Sure, use any visual you want.  How about a swan?”  
“Thank you, Mr. Heyes, but wouldn’t they waddle if they tried to run?  That’ll be the legendary charm I’ve heard so much about?  Or are you implying I look capable of breaking your arm?  That would account for you taking me on, two against one.”  
“It’s easy to be charming with such a lovely woman,” Heyes replied with a smile, unable to see his cousin rolling his eyes as he rode in front of him.  
“And it’s easy for a woman to be considered lovely,” Elise responded.  “All she has to do is shut up and hang on a man’s every word.  I think you’ll find I do rather a lot of that.”  
They reached a clearing and Heyes dismounted offering up a hand to help Elise down.  She took it with a smile.  “My, you do conduct your crimes with gallantry, don’t you?”    
“This isn’t a crime, ma’am,” the Kid dismounted and grasped her mare’s bridle.  “We’re asking a trespasser why she’s on the Jordan land.  That’s perfectly legal.”  
Elise took a seat on a nearby boulder, arranging her riding habit prettily around her.  “So?  What do you want to know?”  
“How do you know Bamforth?” Heyes demanded.  
Her defiant, green eyes stared back into his.  “He’s a rival.  I have no time for the man, but you probably noticed that.”  
“A rival?  At what?”  
“I believe there may be a certain ore in the land around here.  I own a company which processes it.”  
Heyes folded his arms.  “You’re a prospector?  You expect us to believe that?”  
Elise shrugged.  “Why, because I’m a woman?  You don’t believe me because I don’t chew tobacco and spit.  I inherited the place, but I’m determined to keep it going.”  She paused.  “Why aren’t you taking me to the sheriff?”  
“We have a few more questions, ma’am.”  The Kid faced her.  “Why did you say you’re staying at the hotel?  That’s a lie.”  
Elise frowned.  “I never told you where I was staying.”  
The blue eyes pressed home his determination.  “You told Eric at the stables, ma’am.  We saw the clipboard where you signed up for the sorrel.”  
A smile played around her inviting lips.  “Why do you always call me ‘ma’am?’  You can’t pronounce my name, can you?”  She watched the men shuffle uncomfortably.  “Say it.”  
“Don’t change the subject!” Heyes narrowed his eyes.  “We know you’re not staying at the hotel.”  
“It’s quite innocent.”  Elise glanced from one partner to the other.  “I’m camping out and I didn’t think he’d hire a horse to somebody of no fixed abode.  It was a little, white lie.”  
Heyes examined her closely.  “You don’t look like a woman who’s living rough.”  
“Thank you.  I do my best.”  She swept back loose hairs theatrically.  “It’s not easy.”  
The Kid gave a huff of irritation.  “So?  Where are you really stayin’?”     
Heyes and Curry exchanged a glance, the blue eyes clearly abdicating responsibility to the former leader.   
“You expect us to accept all of this?” Heyes demanded.   
“Do I care?”  Elise’s smile warmed.  “Look, I’m not afraid of you.  You can’t, and won’t, do anything to me.  Why don’t we just get on with our day?”  
Heyes' gaze hardened.  “Nobody knows you’re here.  You can’t be sure we won’t do anything, ma’am.”  
Elise’s smile widened.  “Yes, I can.  You’re decent men.”  
Heyes stepped forward his eyes darkening.  “Can you really be sure of that?”  
Elise held his gaze, laughter lightening her voice.  “Yes.”  
The ex-outlaw leader stood over the seated woman staring her down before Heyes gave a huge sigh and his shoulders slumped.  “Well, I know when I’m beat.”  He shrugged at his cousin.  “You try.”  
“How can I?” the Kid protested.  “You’ve just blown our credibility!”  
“I’ve blown it?  You’re the one who sat with their back to her and let her ride away.”  
Blue eyes glittered with challenge.  “And you’re the one who was so busy bein’ charmin’ that she didn’t buy your tough-man act.”  
“We both know that if one of us is being nice, the other has to be the heavy.  You’ve been goin’ straight too long.  You sat back and left it all to me.”  
“Gentlemen!”  Elise stood between them with outstretched arms.  “If it’s any help, neither of you have any credibility.”  She arched an eyebrow.  “Not if you’re trying to scare me, anyway.”  
“Well, I guess that seals it,” the Kid muttered.  “We’re definitely goin’ straight!  There ain’t any doubt about that anymore.”  
“Miss...?”  Heyes verbally groped around in frustration, still unable to pronounce her name.  “Can I call you Elise?”   
Elise gave a twinkle of mischief.  “Certainly, I prefer it to Elsie.  I heard the boy calling for me yesterday”  
“Elise,” Heyes continued.  “We’re going to have to take you to the sheriff.  We’re very suspicious of anyone who hangs around the Jordan’s land.  I’m sorry, but if you aren’t telling us the truth, he’ll find out.”  
Elsie pouted thoughtfully.  “You’ll be playing right into Bamforth’s hands, you know.”  
The Kid shrugged.  “Ma’am, I’m marryin’ into this family and I’ll do what I need to, to keep them safe.  The sheriff can check you out.”  The blue eyes drank in the beautifully turned-out lady in front of him.  “I ain’t buying you as a prospector livin’ rough, and I doubt he will either.  We’re takin’ you to town.”     

Carl Jacobs swallowed hard, trying not to let anyone see just how much the enormous eyes blinking through the bars were discomforting him.   
“We never meant for you to lock her up, sheriff,” Heyes murmured.  “We just wanted to find out who she is.”  
Jacobs nodded.  “Yeah, but she’s offering no information I can check.  She even says she’s living rough.”  
“But we only wanted to know why she was hangin’ around the Double J.”  The Kid folded his arms.  “She hasn’t done anythin’ wrong.  She even saved J.J., we were just bein’ cautious.”  
“And you’re right to be cagey,” Jacobs opened the drawer and dropped the cell keys inside before sliding it closed.  “We still don’t know who tampered with the shelving unit at the hat shop.  She’s been loitering around the area so she needs to explain who she is and why she’s here if she’s to come off my list of suspects.”  
“But she hasn’t done anything illegal.  We’re not pressing any trespassing charges.” Heyes darted a look at the tiny woman, dropping his voice to a hoarse whisper.  “You can’t think she hurt Amy.  Just look at her!  She’s like some kind of...”  he groped around for the right word, “a sprite, maybe?  A china doll?”       
Jacobs dropped into his seat.  “I did look at her,”  he shifted uncomfortably in his chair, “and it’s times like this I wish I had someone like Mrs. Stewart to help out.  How can a man question a woman like her properly?  She just smiles and stares at me with those big eyes of hers.”  
“I know what you mean, sheriff,” the Kid shuffled so that his back was towards the woman in the cell.  “That’s why we brought her here.  She’s the sort of woman who makes a man feel kinda protective.”  
“It wouldn’t have needed strength to weaken the screws anchoring the unit to the wall,” sighed Jacobs, “and she’s acting real suspicious.  She’s going nowhere until I get some answers.”  
Blue eyes twinkled in question.  “But what can you hold her on?”  
Jacobs sat back twiddling his thumbs.  “Vagrancy, until I get something more solid.”    
“Damn,” Heyes hissed.  “I thought you’d just question her.”  
“What bothers me is why she’s so calm.”  Jacobs rocked back in his seat.  “She should either be singing her heart out or protesting her innocence.  She just sits there, smiling, but you know her mind’s running like an express train behind those eyes.”  
The Kid darted a look at his cousin.  “Yeah, that can be real annoyin’.  I found that out years ago.”  He headed to the door.  “C’mon, Heyes.  We’d better be gettin’ back.  Jesse’ll be lookin’ for us.”  
“Give me an hour, huh?  I’ve got a visit to pay.”  Heyes followed his cousin to the door.  “I’ll meet you in the saloon.”  
   
 Heyes carried on his merry way towards David's house in the hopes of taking care of two birds with one stone. He wanted to see Amy again just to visit and let her know that everyone was still thinking about her and wishing her a speedy recovery. But he also was hoping that David would be at home. His shoulders were bothering him again and he was hoping that David could help him out there. He hadn't said anything to Jed about the pain because he knew he'd be setting himself up for a lecture if he did. It was going to be bad enough listening to David go on about it!  
Again Heyes was walking along the street with his eyes down, his thumbs hooked in his gunbelt and his mind totally lost on his own inner musings. He would always berate himself afterwards; he should be paying more attention to his surroundings, he should always be on the look-out for trouble. But he never had been as sharp as the Kid in that respect. His mind always seemed to be wandering, looking ahead to the next job, wondering how the previous one could have been better and just what was the combination to that safe anyways? He'd always counted on Jed to watch his back but now it was really becoming obvious! He really had gotten soft over this past year.  
He looked up as he approached the Gibson residence and smiled when he spotted Amy in her wheelchair, sitting on the front veranda. She had a throw blanket tucked around her even though the day was quite warm and there was a book laying open on her lap. She herself had her head back and resting against the chair and looking very much like she was asleep.  
Heyes tread carefully up the steps, remembering this time to avoid the creaky one and quietly made his way over to the empty chair and sat himself down to watch her.  
He was pleased to see that much of the bruising had calmed down even though there were still areas of her face that looked swollen and sore—especially that stitched cut on her lip. That was probably going to take the longest to return to normal and then she would probably always sport a quiet scar there. Hopefully it would add to her attractive face and not detract from it.  
Heyes smiled. She was beautiful. Not the type he usually fell for; that peaches and cream complexion but he was willing to make allowances if there was enough incentive. Besides; he wasn't interested in courting Amy, she was just a friend, but that didn't mean he couldn't appreciate her beauty....  
Amy moaned quietly and opened her eyes, her sub-conscience letting her know that someone else was in close proximity. She shifted and blinked over at him and then gave a gentle smile as she pulled herself up from her sleep.  
“Oh, Hannibal,” she greeted him quietly. “How long have you been sitting there?”  
“Not long,” he assured her. “Just thought I would enjoy the view.”  
Much to Heyes' disappointment, Amy frowned at that comment rather than taking pleasure from it.  
“You shouldn't say things like that,” she told him. “It's not proper.”  
“I don't mean anything by it,” Heyes countered. “You're a beautiful woman Amy; what's wrong with that?”  
“I don't want to be a beautiful woman,” Amy said with some heat. “It's brought me nothing but grief.”  
Heyes sat quietly, his feelings hurt for some reason. He didn't quite know how to respond to that. Amy smiled, trying to take some of the sting out of her words and she reached over with a bandaged hand and gave him a gentle touch.  
“It's not your fault,” she assured him. “but I have been informed that all of this; what happened to me might be because I got too close to you.”  
Heyes bristled slightly. “You can't think that Miranda....”  
“No, no!” Amy cut him off. “Miranda is a darling. I know she didn't do this. She has even offered her home to me for my convalescence.” She smiled a little abashedly. “Get me out from under the Gibson's feet; let their household at least get back to normal. But someone did this to me Hannibal and Sheriff Jacobs has strongly suggested that it was someone who was either jealous of 'us' or was wanting to cause you pain by hurting me.”  
“Oh.” Heyes hung his head. How was he even suppose to be able to make friends, let alone start a family while this vendetta hung over their lives like a blanket smothering fire? “I'm sorry,” he told her. “I didn't think that us being friends would put you in such danger. We though we would be safe until after the trials! And even at that, I really don't think this was because of our friendship....”  
“Well what else?” Amy asked him. “Either someone is jealous, or.....”  
“Yeah.” Heyes finally had to agree that it all sounded very logical. “But everyone is on the look out now and you do have friends here Amy. No one's going to try anything again. There's no reason why we can't....”  
“No,” Amy cut him off again and Heyes' eyes jerked up to meet her's. “I'm not as brave as Miranda or Beth. Someone came close to murdering me and it scared the dickens out of me. I'm sorry Hannibal—I don't want you to come visit anymore.”  
Heyes' heart sank. It wasn't really a heart break because he didn't love Amy—not that way. But it still hurt; it was still a rejection. He had enjoyed his talks with Amy and he valued her opinion and her advice. He dropped his eyes from her's and gently nodded, accepting her decree.  
“Alright. If that's what you want.”  
“I think it best,” Amy reiterated.   
The screen door opened and Tricia came out carrying a tray with tea and cups on it. She smiled when she saw Heyes sitting there.  
“I thought I heard your voice,” she told him. “I brought an extra cup, would you like to join us for tea?”  
Heyes stood up fingering his hat. “I don't think so Tricia, thank you. Is David at home by any chance?'  
Tricia looked disappointed but nodded as she put the tray down. “Yes. He's just in his office. He has a patient coming to see him in about an hour but I'm sure he has time to see you. Just go on in; you know where it is.”  
Heyes nodded emphatically. “Oh yes! Ladies; enjoy your tea.”  
Heyes made his exit, or as the case may be; his entrance into the house, leaving the ladies to discuss this latest development as he was sure they would be. He carried on through the kitchen, passed the guest bedroom and down the hall to David's office door. He stopped, took a deep bracing breath and knocked.  
“Yes?” came the response from inside.  
“David, it's me; Hannibal.”  
“Oh! Han—yes! Come on in.”  
Heyes heard the scrapping of chair legs on the floor as he opened the door and stepped into the office. David was just closing his binder of notes and putting it back on the shelf and then turned with a smile to his friend. “What brings you calling?” he asked. “Having a visit with Amy?”  
“Yeah,” Heyes conceded. “But I was hoping to see you too—as my doctor.”  
“Oh.” David took on his professional persona. “Alright fine. Have a seat.”  
Heyes came forward and sat down while David sat back down himself and smiled. “So, what's up.”  
Heyes inwardly cringed. He knew he was going to regret this. “My shoulders are bothering me again. I was hoping....”  
“Ahh!” David became all-knowing. “Have you been keeping up with the stretching?”  
“No.”  
“Uh huh.”  
“Well you know how it is David!” Heyes tried to defend himself even though he knew it was pointless. “With all the running around down to Kansas and all over the place. And then spending time with Abi and Anya...then the governor letting me down....”  
“I know you've had a lot on your plate Hannibal,” David admitted quite seriously. “All the more reason for you to have kept up the stretching. You get stressed out and your muscles tighten up and the next thing you know we're back at square one.”  
Heyes just sat there feeling resentful but looking contrite.  
David just smiled. “Alright, never mind,” he said. “Pull off your shirt, let me see what we can do.”  
Heyes obliged him, winching a little as the muscles pulled against the movement. David watched quietly but didn't say anything. He moved his chair around to sit right in front of Heyes and picked up his right hand.  
“Just relax,” David told him.  
“I'm trying to David!” Heyes argued. “But I know what's coming...”  
“I'll try and go easy on you,” David assured him as he began the usual kneading with his thumbs all the way up Heyes' arm and into the front of his shoulder.  
Heyes snorted skeptically, not believing for one second that David was going to go easy, then sucked his teeth when his scepticism was proved right.  
“Hurt?” David asked needlessly.  
“YES!” Heyes answered pointedly.  
“Mmm hmm.”  
David released the one arm and picking up the other repeated the exam and getting pretty much the same result. The doctor sat back and gave his patient an innocent smile. Heyes felt dread go through him.  
“Let's see how your back is, shall we?” David suggested as he stood up and moved around behind Heyes.  
Heyes felt as though he'd been caught in an ambush. “Let's not. Can't you just take my word....” Gasp! “Ouch!”  
“Yes,” David surmised. “Your back is really tight. Oh my! Here's a big knot right here. Let me just get my knuckle into that....” Heyes tensed and gasped again. “Just relax. Breathe.”  
“Oh my God!” Heyes complained. “You really should be a prison guard David! You'd be great at interrogation!”  
“So I've been told,” David admitted. “Still, I'm here to help people, not damage them.”  
“HA!”  
“I swear, I'm just not appreciated,” the doctor complained. “And yet; everyone keeps coming back. I must be doing something right, don't you think?”  
“Yeah, yeah,” Heyes conceded. “Just—get it over with, will ya'?”  
“Hmm.” David continued to poke and prod. Heyes continued to endure it. “What else is on your mind?”  
Heyes groaned inwardly. “What?”  
“I don't know,” David admitted. “That's why I'm asking you.”  
“There's nothing on my mind. Just the usual. OUCH!”  
“That little nerve ending tells me different,” David chided him. “Come on Hannibal! Spit if out. What else is bothering you now?”  
Heyes sighed with resignation. Jed had always been able to read him like an open book but before they had ridden onto the Jordan ranch six years ago, he was the only one who could. Then Jesse seemed to have a certain knack for it. Next came Kenny! Oh brother, all Kenny had to do was look at him and he could get a confession. And now David. Oh and let's not forget Belle! That woman had all the rest beat hands down. It was getting to the point where no self-respecting outlaw could get away with anything anymore!  
“Did you know that J.J. nearly drowned the other day?” Heyes began.  
“Yes,” David admitted. “Belle brought him in for a check-up just to be sure everything was alright.” he shook his head appreciatively. “J.J. is very lucky that woman was there and able to jump in and pull him out.”  
“Yeah,” Heyes agreed. “But that brings up the other question of what was she doing there in the first place?”  
“You don't believe she was just out for a ride?”  
“Not for a minute—ouch!”  
“Breathe—just relax.”  
“Hmm. In any case Jed and I kinda' ambushed her this morning and took her in to see Sheriff Jacobs,” Heyes explained. “You know, just because of all the strange things that have been going on. Can't be too careful—and she was out on private property where she had no business being!”  
“True,” David agreed. “What did Sheriff Jacobs say?”  
“He arrested her!” Heyes continued indignantly. “She wasn't giving him the answers that he wanted to hear so he threw her in a cell!”  
“Oh!” David was surprised, then shrugged. “Well I can understand him being cautious I suppose. After all; what do you actually know about her?”  
“Just that she's Canadian and that her name is Elise Dai...Dagnabbit!”  
“Dagnabbit?” David asked with a grin.  
“Something like that!” Heyes became defensive. “She's French. If I could see it in writing I could probably pronounce it, but trying to remember....!”  
David smiled “So...the sheriff's going to keep her locked up until he can find out more about her? Is that it?”  
“Yeah, I suppose.”  
“And you feel bad about that.”  
“Well yeah!” Heyes was adamant. “Nobody likes to be thrown in a jail cell, especially after the way she helped J.J....it just doesn't seem right.”  
“Yes, I can understand you resenting that,” David assured him. “But you need to see it from Carl Jacobs' point of view too. Here he is trying to protect the citizens of this town and then a whole parcel of strangers start showing up. Not only showing up, but behaving mysteriously—like hanging around the Double J. Then this incident with Amy. He has a point Hannibal. It may not seem very gracious after what the woman did, but it is smart.”  
“Yeah, I suppose.”  
“What else is bothering you?”  
“What makes you think...? Oh never mind!” Heyes gave up the fight. Still, he hung his head and felt the hurt all over again. He took a moment to collect his thoughts and David waited patiently while he worked the muscles. “Amy told me she doesn't want me to come visit her anymore,” he finally admitted.  
“Oh.” David was again surprised. “I'm sorry Hannibal. I know she was becoming a good friend.”  
“Yeah,” Heyes sighed. “but Jacobs told her that the assault might be because of that friendship. Either someone in town being jealous of us or because of that damned vendetta! She's afraid they'll try again if we continue our friendship. I suppose I can't blame her for that.”  
“No,” David agreed as he reached for some lineament and began to massage it into Heyes' back. “But to be fair to Carl he also told her it could have been jealousy over her business. She shows up out of the blue and is all of a sudden very popular with all the ladies in town. Or it might even have been someone who followed her here, perhaps someone who knew her late husband or feels some kind of grudge...”  
“But who could have a grudge against someone like Amy?” Heyes reasoned. “She's kind, she generous, she obviously cares about people...”  
“I know. But we really don't know much about her past,” David reminded him. “That assault might not have anything at all to do with you.”  
“Yeah, maybe.” Heyes sounded sceptical. “In any case; she has called it off. So...”  
“I'm sorry,” David repeated. “No wonder your back is all tied up in a knot. But you shouldn't feel like everyone is abandoning you. You have plenty of friends who are sticking close.”  
“I know,” Heyes acknowledged, but inside he sure wasn't feeling that way.  
Thoughts of him and Abigail running off together began to drift forward again. He was feeling more and more like he had no future in Brookswood. Jed had found a nitch here and Heyes was happy for him. He would be getting married here very soon and probably starting a family of his own; Jed had found what he'd been wanting all these years and he was content. Heyes just felt isolated.  
Why couldn't he and Abi disappear and start a new life for themselves? Someplace where nobody knew who he was. Someplace where he could be free! Free to re-invent himself; free to raise his family and be his own man. Was that really asking too much? Really?  
He jumped slightly as David gave him a pat on the shoulder.  
“Okay,” David broke into his thoughts. “we're done, you can get dressed. But start doing those stretches again! You can tell for yourself that it's important can't you?”  
“Yeah, I know,” Heyes agreed. “I will David, thanks.”

Heyes walked back out towards the veranda, absently fingering his hat as he listened to the two women talking quietly together. He took a deep breath and stepped through the front door and onto the porch. Tricia smiled up at him.  
“Everything alright?” she asked him.  
“Yes, fine.” Heyes smiled. “Nothing serious, just the same old problem.”  
“Good. There's still tea if you have time,” Tricia offered. “Would you like to join us?”  
“Ahh, no. Thank you Tricia,” Heyes declined, making a point of avoiding Amy's gaze. “I told Jed I would meet up with him at the saloon and I expect he is waiting for me.”  
“Alright Hannibal,” Tricia nodded. “Say 'hello' to Jed for me.”  
“I certainly well,” Heyes agreed and he gave a slight bow in farewell. “Ladies. Have a nice afternoon.”  
And then he was gone, clomping down the stairs and heading towards the main street of town. He placed his hat back on his head and lost himself in thought once again. Why was he having such a hard time making up his mind these days? He wasn't usually this indecisive. He'd promised Jed he would stay for his wedding and he would do that, but after that; did he have any real plans? 'No'. Just a whimsical idea of riding away and sweeping Abi off her feet. No planning, no real thought given to how they would live or how they would get out of the country. No 'Hannibal Heyes' plan at all.  
Why not? It was what he wanted, wasn't it? Sometimes the aching in his heart to be with his two girls was so bad he thought for sure it must break in two. The urge to saddle up Karma and head out to collect them up would be so strong that the only thing stopping him from doing it was that he didn't know where they were—and a promise he had made to his cousin.  
It must be the promise more than anything else because he knew where Hester was and even Cage for that matter and Abi might very well be staying with him and Mayzee for now. Even if she wasn't, Hester would know where she was and if not actually willing to pass that information on to Heyes, she would at least send Abi a message. If he was serious about finding her, he could. So why wasn't he making plans? Jed's wedding was practically just around the corner and if Heyes was going to leave right after that then he should be making plans!   
Yet whenever he tried to put his mind to it a block would come down and doubt would take over his scheming. It was stupid; thinking they could just run away and hide. It could be dangerous too and not really a stable environment to be placing a child into either. Abi would never go for it. But what if she did? What if Heyes was turning away from his one chance at happiness out of a misconception of Abi's intent?  
But her letter had been very clear; there was no misinterpreting her meaning. It was over, that was the end of it. Don't get in touch, I'll let you know if anything important comes up. But maybe that was just because Abi hadn't considered disappearing with him. Maybe she didn't think he was willing to leave Jed and his parole behind and run away with her. Maybe....  
He sighed. Yeah, but maybe not. Probably not. Abi wasn't willing to risk Anya; she'd always made that very clear. How could Heyes expect her to suddenly change that dictate—it'd be like asking an Appaloosa to change it's spots. Wait a minute! Appaloosa's do change their spots! So maybe Abi would—or, maybe not....  
“Hannibal! Watch out!”  
“OH! Damn!”  
Heyes tried to change his direction but—too late! There was a rustling and an intake of breath followed by the split second of confusion as two bodies collided with each other! That was quickly followed by the sickening crack of eggs falling and breaking against the boardwalk. Then the thump, thump thumping of apples hitting wood and bouncing down the steps and onto the soft dirt of the street.  
“Oh no!” Miranda exclaimed. “My eggs!”  
“I'm sorry!” Heyes blustered. “I wasn't watching! Here let me help...”  
Heyes spied the yellow slimy mess on the boardwalk and realized there was no help that was going to fix that mistake so he stepped down onto the street and began gathering up the recalcitrant apples. He made a dash for the last one just as one of the town dogs snatched it up and took off down the street with it in it's mouth.  
“Hey!” Heyes yelled after it but of course it had no effect other than to encourage the animal to run faster.  
He stood up and turned around only to find a rather large black horse head banging into him and one more apple was absconded with from his retrieved armful. He took a swat at the tethered horse to get the pushy muzzle out of his way only to have three more apples go bouncing back down to the ground and roll off in three different directions. He cursed under his breath and quickly snatched them back up again before anybody else took advantage.  
He headed back to the boardwalk and frowned at the sight of two more town mongrels quickly lapping up the scrambled eggs—shell and all before anyone could kick them or throw something to chase them away. The grocer was actually relieved that the dogs were taking care of the mess because then he wouldn't have to. Sometimes those mutts came in handy.  
Heyes smiled like a misbehaving little boy when he looked over to see Miranda's dark blue eyes laughing at him. He playfully rolled his own eyes as he approached and dumped the apples back into her hand basket.  
“Sorry,” he repeated. “C'mon, let's go back in and I'll buy you some more eggs—and a couple of more apples.”  
“That's alright Hannibal.” Randa laughed and patted his arm. “You don't need to—I can get them.”  
“No. I insist,” Heyes insisted. “I've been spending way too much time day-dreaming these days. It'll teach me to keep my mind on where I'm going.”  
“Oh well, alright,” Randa conceded, realizing that a man's pride was at stake here. “But in return you'll have to come over for a slice of the apple pie, once it's done. Deal?”  
Heyes grinned. “Deal.”  
He took the basket of groceries and offered her his other arm and escorted her back into the market where the eggs and apples were quickly replaced.  
“May I walk you home?” Heyes offered once they were back outside again.  
“That would be lovely, thank you,” Miranda accepted.  
Heyes smiled and still holding the replenished basket they stepped down onto the street, arm in arm and carried on towards her house, ignoring looks from the various creatures in their path who were hoping for another incident to highlight their day.  
“What is that smell?” Miranda finally asked with a frown on her brow. “I noticed it before but then things got kind of crazy.”  
“Smell?” Heyes asked, then enlightenment dawned. “Oh! That's just liniment. I was over at David's letting him torture me. Unfortunately it does seem to help.”  
Tricia chuckled. “Yes. It is a shame when the cure is sometimes worse than the disease. Did you see Amy?”  
Heyes' smile dropped. “Yes,” he admitted. “She's looking much better.”  
“Yes,” Randa agreed. “But she still needs someone with her—she really cannot look after herself yet.”  
Heyes nodded. “She tells me that you've offered her your place for her convalescence.”  
“Yes,” Randa substantiated that. “I'm not working and don't have an active little boy running around, so it seemed the thing to do. Besides, I still feel badly about what I thought of her before and hopefully this will make it up. Now that I've gotten to know her better she really is quite sweet and very interesting to talk to. I can see why you and she are friends.”  
Heyes sighed and made no comment.  
“What?” Miranda asked him. “You are friends.”  
“Not so much any more,” Heyes admitted.  
“Why not? Did you have a falling out?”  
“No, no nothing like that,” Heyes assured her. “It's just that Sheriff Jacobs suggested to her that the motive for the assault could be that she was getting close to me. She's afraid it will happen again if we continue on.”  
“Oh dear!” Miranda almost seemed angry. “That's silly! Why would it have anything to do with you?”  
Heyes shrugged. “The same reason Beth was assaulted—twice! Jacobs thinks that it might all be connected.”  
“Oh my. Your friends seem to be disappearing into the woodwork.”  
Heyes looked slightly stricken.  
“Oh no!” Miranda squeezed his hand. “That wasn't very tactful was it? When am I going to learn to keep my mouth shut!”  
“Oh, that's alright,” Heyes recovered quickly. “You're honest. That's one of the many things I've always liked about you.”  
“Honest to a fault!” she laughed.  
“That's alright,” he repeated. “I don't mind. It's just, if Amy is going to be staying with you then it might be difficult for me to come visit. She doesn't want to see me.”  
“It's my home,” Randa pointed out. “I can entertain whom ever I wish. But even at that; she doesn't need twenty-four hour care anymore. We can sit out on the front porch, or meet in town for lunch.” She smiled playfully. “Or go for a ride! I'm seriously thinking about buying Percy and he'll need regular exercising!”  
Heyes grinned. “Yes he will, won't he?”  
He smiled over at her and their eyes locked and played together for an instant. Abi was still very much in his heart and on his mind, but he was beginning to appreciate Miranda's company once again and his spirit rose up just a little bit when she smiled at him.

“Where have ya' been!?” Jed demanded. “You're an hour late!”  
“I was talking with Miranda,” Heyes explained as he sidled up to the bar beside his partner. He nodded at Bill to bring him a beer.  
“Oh.” Jed backed off. “Oh alright. Everything go okay?”  
“Yeah. It's good.”  
“Good.” Kid's nose crinkled. “You smell like liniment! You didn't tell me your shoulders were botherin' ya'.”  
Heyes shrugged as he took a gulp of beer. “Don't have to tell my partner everything, do I? Besides, getting lectured by one of ya' is enough.”  
Jed grinned. “Well I suppose if ya' weren't doin' your stretches then ya' deserved a lecture.”  
“Yeah, and I already got one—so leave it alone!”  
“Fine! Fine. I'm just sayin'....”  
“Geesh,” Heyes mumbled into his glass. “Mother hens—the pair of ya'!”  
“Uh huh.”  
The two friends drank their beers in silence and then ordered a second round for the road. Heyes continued to stare down into his glass, a contemplative expression on his face. Jed watched him for a while, not saying a word but finally he'd had enough of the loud silence and released a heavy sigh.  
Heyes glanced up from his beer, eye brows raised.  
“What's the matter with you?” he asked.  
“With me?” Jed returned with a snort. “You haven't been this quiet since ya' fell asleep on the front porch—actually even then you were snorin'. Ya' still thinkin' about Abi?”  
Heyes looked back into his beer and shrugged. “I guess.”  
“Ya' still thinkin' about leaving after the wedding?” Jed asked with a slight dread in his heart. He really didn't want his partner to disappear but if that was what it was going to take for Heyes to be happy, well....  
“I don't know!” Heyes snapped then his expression changed to regret when he saw the look of surprise on Jed's face. “I don't know Kid,” he repeated a little more sedately. “Sometimes I miss them so much it's like a knife hitting me in the back. Then other times I just know that it's over so why even think about going after her.”  
“Yeah.” Jed nodded. “Well ya' know I said I would help ya' plan it out after the honeymoon if ya' still wanna do it. I meant that Heyes. I'm hoping that you won't go, but if that's what ya' need to do; I'll help ya'.”  
“I know Kid,” Heyes told him. “Thanks. C'mon, let's head back home.”  
The two men swallowed down the last of their beers and headed over to the livery to pick up their horses. Heyes stopped half way down the isle way and glanced into the indoor pen that held four of the livery's rental horses. He stood and scrutinized a fine looking dappled gray gelding and his mind wandered.  
Kid had carried on down the isle towards where Gov and Karma were gazing expectantly over their stall doors, looking forward to heading for home and their evening feeding. Jed stroked Gov's nose and turned back to where his partner stood, quietly staring at the gray.  
“Thinkin' about buyin' another horse?” Jed asked him.  
“What?” Heyes came up out of his musings and looked at Jed. He also noticed Karma looking at him with her ears pricked and a worried expression in her eyes. He couldn't help but smile.  
“No, no,” he assured both his partner and his horse. “Randa is considering buying this gelding here. She rode him last time we went for a ride together and I was just thinking what a nice horse he is. I think he would be a good choice for her.”  
“Uh huh.”  
“That way, well...you know; we could go riding together whenever we want,” Heyes continued. “Won't have to worry about renting her a horse that's maybe not suitable.”  
“Uh huh.”  
“And she could keep boarding him here,” Heyes continued to surmise. “Eric would give her a good deal, I'm sure.”  
“Uh huh.” Jed leaned against the stall door, ankles and arms crossed. “Ya' planning on doin' a lot of ridin' with Miranda, are ya'?”  
Heyes shrugged. “I suppose.”  
“Uh huh.”  
Heyes gave another deep sigh then turned down the isle and strode up to his own horse. Karma arched her neck over the stall door and nuzzled his chest, nibbling on a button. He smiled and gave her a pat on the neck.  
“Oh now, what are you getting all worried about?” he asked her playfully. “Nobody's gonna replace you—you know that.”  
Karma nodded her head, knocking him on the nose and tilting his hat. Heyes chuckled and pushed her away so he could get into the stall. Time to saddle up and go home.

Fifteen minutes into the ride back to the ranch, Heyes was still stoically silent and Jed was getting a little tired of feeling the stress coming off of him. Even Karma was antsy in her jog-trot, tossing her head and mouthing her bit as her own sensitivity picked up on her human's mood.  
“Ya' still thinking about Abi?” Jed finally asked, having reached the end of his patience.  
“What...? OH. No.”  
“Miranda then?”  
“No, not really.”  
“Well, Amy then.”  
“No!”  
“Well dagnabbit! What are ya' thinkin' about!?” Kid demanded. “You're driving me crazy—and you always do this!”  
“What am I doing!?” Heyes demanded in his own defence. Karma spooked and started.  
“You're thinkin', that's what!” Kid told him. “You're givin' me a damn headache—you're thinkin' so loud! Why don't ya' just talk about it so we can both relax!”  
“Nothin' to talk about.”  
Jed suddenly pulled Gov to a halt and Heyes had to bring Karma back around so that he faced his cousin.  
“Heyes, I swear; I'm not goin' another step until you start talkin' to me,” Jed warned him. “What the hell is goin' on in that head of yours?”  
Heyes was getting a little tense himself. “I don't want to talk about it,” he grumbled.  
“Tough! I'm sick of listenin' to you thinkin'!” Jed insisted. “C'mon Heyes. I know you ain't been sleepin' again. Somethin's bothering ya'. If it ain't the various ladies in your life than what is it?”  
Heyes' shoulders slumped and Jed knew he had him. Heyes turned Karma's head towards the ranch again and nudged her back into a walk. Jed pushed Gov into motion and came up alongside his partner.  
“C'mon Heyes.” He gently nudged his partner this time. “What's bothin' ya'?”  
“I thought it would just go away,” Heyes stated quietly. “With everything else going on with Abi and Anya I was feeling kinda good and it got pushed to the back and I thought I was fine. I even told myself; 'Yeah, Kid was wrong, I don't need to talk about it. Everything's fine.' Then we got back home and there was so much going on here, all the upheaval over me and Abi and then the governor pulling the rug out from under us. Then your wedding.....it just got pushed to the back and I had so many other things on my mind....I just figured I was over it.”  
“You're not over it though, are ya' Heyes?” Jed asked him quietly. He knew what this was about. Finally!  
Heyes just shook his head.  
“Ya' havin' nightmares again?”  
“Yeah,” Heyes admitted. “Not real bad ones like before, you know. I'm not waking up screaming or anything, but they're still bad enough. They started out slowly. Usually my dreams these days have been pretty good, you know; just normal dreams but then the nightmares started up again and now they're getting worse. I thought about asking David for some sleeping drafts again but then he'd wanna know what for and all that. I just didn't feel that I wanted to talk to him about this. He's never been through it, so....”  
“Are ya' ready to talk to me about it?” Jed asked him.  
Heyes just nodded again, not able to meet his cousin's eyes but he took a deep breath and settled in as the horses walked on. They knew the way home.  
“He was such a bastard,” Heyes commented quietly.  
“Yeah, he was,” Jed agreed.  
“He made my life a living hell in that place. And he enjoyed it too!” Heyes continued with a little bit of heat. “That bastard! He enjoyed it. You should have seen him Kid, you should have seen the way he gloated about killing the Doc. I knew he was just trying to get me angry—get me to make a mistake, but even at that I could tell. He enjoyed it. If anybody deserved killing; he did.”  
“Yeah,” Kid agreed. “He did deserve it.”  
“Yeah.” Heyes nodded. “All those years in prison, even before what he did to Doc, I wanted to kill him. He was just a mean son-of-a-bitch.”  
“Yup.”  
“So why am I sick about it now?”  
“Why do ya' think?”  
“Oh you're pulling a 'David' on me now,” Heyes complained. “If I knew why, I wouldn't be asking!”  
“C'mon Heyes,” Jed prodded him. “You know why. After everything he did to you and what he did to Doc, why would you feel bad about killin' 'em?”  
Heyes rode on in silence for a few strides. Jed didn't know if he was thinking about it or just didn't want to say.  
“Because I always prided myself on being able to think my way out of problems,” Heyes finally reasoned. “If somebody did me wrong I was above killing them. I could come up with a scheme to get back at them. I could ruin them, destroy their lives. I could do worse to them than kill them because I was so much smarter than they were. They were stupid beasts who only knew how to deal with adversaries through violence, but I was civilized....  
“Prison changed all that. It dragged me down to their level because the only way to survive in that place; the only way to stay alive was to become just as brutal just as vicious as they were. I wanted to kill Carson, Kid. I didn't want him to be arrested, I didn't want the law to kill him. I didn't even want him to be sent to prison which would have been a fate worse than death for him. I wanted to kill him.  
“So when the opportunity came to go after him I took it. I deliberately left you and Cage behind because I wanted to kill him myself. Even if I had known at that point that Abi wasn't dead, I still would have gone after him. Abi was just one more reason; one more justification.  
“I can still feel him Kid. I can still smell his breath as we struggled for that gun and I was lost in it. I never knew what they meant by a 'killing lust' before I went to prison. I felt it for the first time when I got into that fight with Harris and Boeman. It was all encompassing. I didn't feel pain, I didn't hear Kenny yelling at me. All I knew was that I wanted to kill. I wanted to wring the life out whose ever throat I had between my hands. It didn't even matter at that point who it was. I wanted blood.  
“It scared me afterwards; to have lost control like that. I swore I'd never let it happen again—and it didn't. I fell back on my old scheming ways. Anybody did me wrong and I was able to keep my cool, just like before. I'd get mad, but I could hide it—bide my time and exact my revenge when it suited me. I was back to being myself again, back to being above all the rest of those animals.  
“So even when I knew I wanted to kill Carson I had myself convinced that it was just going to be like any other well planned out 'Hannibal Heyes' scheme. It would be like blowing a safe or stopping a train. I'd plan it, do it and then be done with it.  
“But the animal re-surfaced and once I had Carson in my sites nothing else mattered. I didn't feel the cold, I didn't feel the pain of him pounding on me. The hammer of that gun was digging into the palm of my hand and I was aware of the pain, but it was as though I didn't feel it...as though I didn't care.  
“I was willing to die Kid. I was willing to die myself as long as I took Carson with me. There was no other thought in my mind. That killing-lust, that total loss of control that I swore I would never allow to consume me again—did. I was an animal again. A wild, crazy beast with no intellect, no compassion, no remorse—no thought of consequence. I was no better than Carson.  
“After it was all over with I kept telling myself that he deserved it. That the law would have probably put him to death anyways and if not, well he wasn't going to survive in prison. Word would have gotten around about who he was, just like it did with Harris and the other inmates would have taken him out. So why did I feel so sick about killing him?  
“Then I realized that it wasn't because of some moral issue. It wasn't because of what our folks said, or the Sisters at Valparaiso about how it was wrong to take a life. It was because I had seen myself at the lowest, most brutal level of humanity. All my high intellect, all my fine talk, all my arrogance at never committing murder. 'Of all the trains and banks they robbed, they never killed anyone...' Isn't that what that dime novel says?  
“What a load of crap! I'd just never been put into the position before of needing to kill—of wanting to kill. And as soon as I found myself in that position, suddenly I was a killer—just like all those other lowly forms of humanity that I'd been forced to live with. I didn't like it.”  
Heyes stopped talking then—finally. The horses plodded on, having settled themselves into a nice extended walk that would get them home quickly but not exert too much energy. Jed remained quiet for a bit, taking in all his partner had said and wondering how he could ease his friend's pain.  
“We all have that in us Heyes; to kill,” Jed finally told him. “I found that out at an early age. It just took you a little longer. But you ain't nothin' like Carson. Carson killed for pleasure; you said yourself that he enjoyed it. You didn't enjoy killing—not even a bastard like Carson.  
“Being in that prison the way you were; it was bound to have an effect on your thinkin'. They broke ya' Heyes, body and spirit. Mitchell was certain he'd broke ya' permanent; that he'd destroyed ya' and you were never going to come back. But ya' did. It's been a struggle for ya', I know that. So does Jesse and Kenny and David. Jeez; Belle, Miranda, the girls. Abi. We all know what you went through and what it did to ya'.   
“But if you were like Carson, if you were like any of those other inmates at the prison who murdered for pleasure, do you think any of these people would have stuck by ya'? You can bet that Kenny never would have signed those parole papers if he thought you were a cold-blooded killer—none of us would have.  
“I suppose livin' in that prison, surrounded by those kinds of people I can see how you might think that you became like them. Maybe ya' did for a while, like you say; in order to survive in there. But that isn't who or what you are. You're comin' back Heyes, we can all see it. You're healin'. You're strong and you're gonna make it.”  
“Yeah?”  
“Yeah!”  
“Do ya' mind if I just take your word on that for now?” Heyes asked him. “Sometimes I'm not so sure I can do this on my own.”  
Jed grinned. “You can lean on me anytime you need to, Partner.”

 Elise stared down at her tin plate before glancing up at the darkness beyond the barred window.  She toyed with the mashed potatoes, swirling them into creamy mounds of mush.   
“Is there something wrong with the food, ma’am?”  Jacobs looked up from his report.  “It came from the restaurant a couple of doors away, and they’ve got a real good reputation.  I got you chicken.  Everybody likes chicken, don’t they?”      
“I’m not hungry,” Elise sighed.  “How long are you planning on keeping me here?”    
Jacobs dipped his pen in the inkwell.  “Until you give me some information which checks out.  You won’t even give me your home town.”  
“I don’t have one.  I move around a lot.”  
“Yeah, I deal with a whole lotta folks who live like that, but they usually end up behind bars.”  Jacobs scratched a few more words on the paper.  “I can get you something else if you really hate the food.”  
“No, thank you, Sheriff, I don’t have much of an appetite.”  
Carl Jacobs laid down his pen and strolled over to the cells.  “Why don’t you let me help you, ma’am?  Give me something to check out so I can let you go.”  
“I’ve told you who I am.”  
“An itinerant Canadian who owns a processing plant, but you can’t tell me where that is?”  
Elise put her plate on the bunk beside her.  “I have business interests to protect.”  
Jacobs shook his head.  “But you won’t be able to look after anything in the penitentiary.”  
“Huh?” Elise’s eyes widened, causing the lawman to gulp heavily.  
“Yes.  The sentence for vagrancy is thirty days hard labour.”  Jacobs tilted his head.  “I don’t want to do that to you.  Tell me who you really are.”  
“Thirty days?” Elise frowned.  “That would be less than convenient.”  
Jacobs nodded.  “That’s one way of putting it.”  He headed to the back door.  “I’ll be back in a minute.  Think on what I said, ma’am.  I think you’d find the life very hard in a place like that.”  
The back door clattered shut and Elise was alone with her thoughts... but not for long.  
“Elise!” hissed a male voice from outside the window.  
She glanced from side to side before bustling over.  “Is that you?  You took your time!”  
“I heard him go into the outhouse.  We don’t have much time.  Are you alone?”  
“It would appear so!  You’ve been no help at all.”  
A pair of grey eyes appeared at the window, as the man obviously stood on something.  “What did you expect me to do?  Take on Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry single handed?”  
“You could have created a distraction to stop them locking me up.”  
“Why would I do that?  It could have caused your horse to bolt.  You could have been hurt.”  
“Valentine,” Elise’s voice fizzed with irritation, “he’s talking about giving me thirty days hard labour for vagrancy.  Do something, man!”      
“I am doing something.”  Bamforth got himself comfortable on the box and leaned on the sill.  “I’ve brought you a box of your ginger cookies.”   
“Cookies?  No gun, nothing else?”  
“I’ve heard about prison food.  Here,” he pushed a small package through the bars.  “In the meantime, I can see no reason to get you out of there any time soon.”  
“How about the fact I’ll kill you when I do?” Elise demanded.  
“Is that supposed to be an incentive?  Just relax!”  Bamforth smirked.  “In fact, there’s not much more you can do, is there?  That’s why I want you to stay there.  It might teach you a lesson.”  
“Val!  I’m warning you!”  
“Maybe you’ll listen to me next time and do what you’re told.  I told you to stay out of this.”  
“It’ll be a cold day in hell before I do what you tell me,” snapped Elise.  “Tu es l'homme le plus ennuyeux dans le monde.  Tu t’agaces mes nerfs en ce moment!”  
“You always do this!  You start arguing in French.  You know I don’t speak it.”   
“Read between the lines,” Elise simmered with anger.  “I’m in prison and all you do is bring me ginger cookies?  You’re an apology for a man.”  
“At least I know where you are.” He cocked his head to the side, just for an instant. “I can hear him coming back.  I’d better go.”  
“Valentine, I’m warning you...”  
“Sleep well.  Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”  
“I’ll bite you when I get out of here!”  
Valentine’s mouth twitched into a grin.  “I’ll look forward to it.  Bon nuit, chouchou.”  
“Ferme ta gueule, cochon!”  
The door latch rattled and valentine dropped from view.  Sheriff Jacobs strolled back into the jailhouse.  “Have you been thinking about what I said?”  
Elise edged back to her bunk, holding the package behind her back.  “It’s certainly given me food for thought, sheriff.”  She sat sliding her cookies under the pillow.  “Do you have a hairbrush and toothbrush I can borrow?  I’d like to get ready for bed.”  
Jacobs frowned.  “There’s not much call for hairbrushes around here, and even less for toothbrushes.”  He opened a drawer.  “I got a comb, but I’d better wash it first.  I’ll send my deputy for them for you when he arrives for his night shift.  They’re bound to keep some at the hotel. ”  
Elise gave a heavy sigh and curled up on her bunk with her back to him.  “Thank you, sheriff.  I don’t want to be a bother.  But I’d like to keep my teeth. ”  
“Yeah, ma’am.  We’ll sort something for you.  Most of our patrons keep them in their pockets, especially if they’ve been fighting.  You are certainly a cut above the norm.”  
   
 Joe Morin cast doubtful eyes at his boss.  “You want me to guard her?” he asked, incredulously.  
Both lawmen stared over at the woman brushing out endless caramel hair which gently touched the floorboards from her position on the bunk.   
“Yeah, Joe.  I’ve been here all day.  Now don’t let her out of that cell.  Not for anything, you hear?”  
“Nothin’?”  Worry was written over the deputy’s face.  “But what if she wants to... well, you know.”  
“I’ve thought of that.  She has a chamber pot, and you can tie that sheet over the bars to give her privacy.”  
The anxiety was crowded out by incredulity.  “In there!  Behind a sheet?”  
“Yup.”  Jacobs nodded.  “We know nothing about her, so we can’t have you wandering around in the dark on the way to the outhouse.  She may have confederates.”  
“But it’s just not proper.  She’s a real lady.”  
Jacob’s nodded and sighed heavily.  “She sure is, but she’s also a prisoner and it’s our job to make sure she stays one.”  Jacobs picked up his hat and headed for the door.  “Remember, she doesn’t get out no matter what.  I’ll be back in the morning with some breakfast for her.”  
“But what do I do with the chamber pot?” Joe demanded.  
Jacobs’s eyebrows rose.  “What do we usually do?”  
“We let ‘em take it to the outhouse when we escort them there in the mornin’.”  
The sheriff nodded crisply.  “Exactly - and we don’t treat women any different.  See you in the morning, Joe.”  
Joe Morin reached out and grabbed his boss’s arm.  “Carl, she’s beautiful.  It’s like she’s stepped out of a fairytale.  She can’t carry a pot full of, well – that!”  
“Joe, if it’s any help, you can carry it for her before you go home,” Jacobs gave his deputy a wink.  “But don’t let Clint Walker find out or he’ll be expecting you to carry his every Sunday morning after he’s slept it off.”  
   
“Thank God you’re here!”  
Jacobs looked into the worried face of his deputy.  “What’s going on?”  
“I’ve done what you told me, and I haven’t let her out of the cell, but she’s ill.  She’s sick as a dog.”  
“Why?” Jacobs demanded.  “She hardly touched her food last night.”  He paused, “but she didn’t say she was ill.”  
He looked over at the pale woman lying on the bunk, her eyes swimming with dizziness and nausea.  “Ma’am, what’s wrong?”  
“Leave me alone.”  Elise suddenly sat bolt upright and began violently vomiting into a ceramic bowl.   
Jacobs strode over to the drawer and pulled out the keys.  “Ma’am, were you ill in the night?”  He unlocked the cell and walked over to her.  She was pale and trembling, and beads of sweat made her alabaster forehead clammy.  “Joe, go get the doc.”  Jacobs reached out and stretched a supporting arm around the woman’s heaving shoulders as she retched bile from her empty belly.  “What’s caused this?  Have you had this before?”  
Elise simply sighed and pulled away from him.  “Just let me lie down. “  Jacobs felt her slight frame shake in his arms as her head dropped, her hair flopping over her face.  “What in the name of all that’s holy is that smell?”  
Jacobs looked over to the desk where he had dumped her breakfast in his hurry, sniffing the air.  “Smell?  Bacon, I guess.  Don’t you like bacon?”    
Elise had no time to reply.  She was too busy spewing and regurgitating over the ceramic bowl.        
   
David stood in the doorway of the cell, appraising the wan, motionless figure on the bunk.  “Elsie Dagnabbit, I presume?”  
Elise stirred, sighing heavily.  “Huh?”  
David smiled.  “Nothing, what’s your name?”  
“Elise, Elise Daignaawwachh...”  She pulled the bowl over to her once more, but there was nothing left to come out.   
“So, have you had this before?”  David reached out a hand and laid it on her clammy forehead.  “The sheriff says you just played with your food last night.”  
“I’m fine.  I don’t need a doctor.”   
David arched an eyebrow.  “A fellow medical professional?  Where did you study?”  
“Tea, I just need a cup of tea,” groaned Elise.   
David held her wrist, measuring her pulse.  “You do need fluids.  What did you eat last?”  
“I had a few cookies in my pocket.  I ate those late last night.”  
“Cookies?”  
“I guess I was too upset to eat at dinner time, but I got hungry in the night.”  
David frowned.  “And where did these cookies come from?”  
“A friend made them for me.”  
“And you’ve had them before?”  
Elise nodded weakly, barely able to support the weight of her head.  “Yes.”  She turned pleading green eyes on the doctor.  “Can I have some tea?  All they’ve offered is the most repulsive coffee I’ve ever smelled.  Please!  I’ll pay for it, but I’d kill for a cup of tea.”  
David turned questioning eyes on Carl Jacobs.  “Well, can she?  That doesn’t sound like an unreasonable request.”  
“Sure, Joe, go and get some from the restaurant for the lady.”  
“Tea?”  
“Yeah, Joe - tea.  Ladies like it.  Go get it for her.  I’m sure they’ll have the recipe in the restaurant.”  
Joe Morin nodded and bustled out the door.  “Sure.”  
David turned to Jacobs and nodded.  “Please leave me with her.”  
Jacobs shook his head.  “Sorry, Doc.  I can’t leave you alone with any prisoner.  I can put up a sheet to give you privacy, but that’s about it.”  
Elise lay on her back and rubbed away the hair sticking to her face with both hands.  “Don’t worry about it.  You’re not examining me.  I’m fine.  It’s just a cacogastric bout.  Some tea and plain food will set me to rights.  Maybe I’ve got a nervous stomach, after all, I’m not used to being arrested and threatened with jail.”  
David nodded.  “Maybe, I’ll make sure you get some scrambled eggs and dry toast.  If you aren’t better by tonight I’ll come and see you again.”  He paused.  “What did you say your name was?”  
“Elise Daignault.”  
“Miss Daignault?”  
Elsie nodded.   
“You’re not married?” asked David.  
Elise dropped her swirling head into her hands.  “No, why?”  
David shrugged.  “Just wondering.”  He glanced up at Joe Morin who bore a tray into the cell block.  “Your tea.  I’ll get some plain food arranged, then get some sleep.  Is there anything you need?”  He dropped his voice discretely.  “Time of the month, maybe?”  
Elise shook her head.  “Tea.  I need tea, is all.”  
   
Elise propped herself up against the wall, her bent legs supporting the magazines Jacobs had provided courtesy of Tricia Gibson.   It had been four hours since her episode and she felt much restored to her old self.  She looked up at the smiling lawman who was knocking politely on the bars.  “Some more tea, ma’am, and a sandwich for lunch.  The doc said something plain, so it’s cheese and tomato.”  
Elise gave a little moué of apology.  “I’m so sorry.  You must think I’m some sort of drama queen.”  
Jacobs laid the tray on the floor and opened the cell.  The teapot was too large to fit through the slot designed for passing plates to prisoners.  “Not at all, ma’am.  You were definitely ill and we were worried about you.  I’m glad to see you’re better.”  
“I am.  But more tea?  That’s so kind of you.”  
“Everyone’s innocent until proven guilty, and you needed care.  The coffee seems to disagree with you.  It doesn’t take much to get some tea for you.”  
Elise dropped her magazine on the bunk and gave Jacobs a broad smile.  “This town is very lucky to have you.  You are both kind and thorough.  You are very good at your job.”  
Jacobs stared into the magical eyes and wondered if he really did blush.  “Thank you,” he muttered.  
She patted the bunk, indicating that he should sit beside her, but he shook his head in refusal.  “Sheriff Jacobs,” her voice was mellow, and over the emerald eyes she almost appeared to purr.  “no matter what happens, there’ll be no hard feeling, huh?  When professional people have a job to do, there’ll be things that just have to happen.  You can’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs.  We all understand that, don’t we?”  
“That’s very generous of you.”  
“Call me Elise.”  
Jacobs shook his head.  “No. ma’am.  That wouldn’t be professional.”  Jacobs walk out of the cell with some heavy breaths and locked it behind him.  “Enjoy your tea.”     
Elise lifted the tray onto the bunk, pulling up the draped tea towel to peruse the sandwich.  The bread was freshly baked and crusty, and certainly appetizing.  It had been a very long time since she’d eaten anything but a few cookies.  
She placed a delicate finger on the lid of the teapot, holding it in place while she poured and nestled back to enjoy her lunch over the article on etiquette which she found so amusing.  Did any woman really live like this?  How did they get through the day, let alone their lives?  
'Gentlemen will commence conversations.'  - Elise smiled at the very thought; if women waited for men to take the lead everyone would be talking about sports or business; if they plucked up the courage at all.  
'To pick the nose, finger about the ears, or scratch the head or any other part of the person, in company, is decidedly vulgar.'  The person who wrote this had clearly never been west of the Mississippi, and Elise was thinking of both male and female.  
'A woman alone should never speak to a man until he speaks first.'  Did prison count?  She was certainly alone, but the men seemed to be on tenterhooks all the time, but it was the advice to young brides which almost made her tea run down her nose as she snorted in laughter.  
'The bride's terror need not be extreme. While sex is at best revolting and at worse rather painful, it has to be endured, and has been by women since the beginning of time, and is compensated for by the monogamous home and by the children produced through it. It is useless, in most cases, for the bride to prevail upon the groom to forgo the sexual initiation. While the ideal husband would be one who would approach his bride only at her request and only for the purpose of begetting offspring, such nobility and unselfishness cannot be expected from the average man.'  
 Who wrote this stuff?  Why would a woman marry a man she found so repulsive?  
'By their tenth anniversary many wives have managed to complete their child bearing and have achieved the ultimate goal of terminating all sexual contacts with the husband. By this time she can depend upon his love for the children and social pressures to hold the husband in the home. Just as she should be ever alert to keep the quantity of sex as low as possible, the wise bride will pay equal attention to limiting the kind and degree of sexual contacts. Most men are by nature rather perverted, and if given half a chance, would engage in quite a variety of the most revolting practices.'  
Elise darted a look at the upright lawman, wondering if he had any clue what she was reading.  Revolting practices huh?  Well, who knew?  The magazine then went on to identify these ‘practises’ in a way which the Comstock laws seemed to have overlooked, but women’s etiquette was probably considered too boring for the authorities to read.  Elise read on doing her best not to laugh out loud.     
'If he attempts to kiss her on the lips she should turn her head slightly so that the kiss falls harmlessly on her cheek instead. If he attempts to kiss her hand, she should make a fist. If he lifts her gown and attempts to kiss her any place else she should quickly pull the gown back in place, spring from the bed, and announce that nature calls her to the toilet. This will generally dampen his desire to kiss in the forbidden territory.'   
Elise finished off her sandwich, deciding that she was clearly unnatural.  Maybe it was the French side of her, but enjoyment of marital union was definitely encouraged by the older women in her circle, and a woman had every right to demand pleasure.  This Anglo culture was confusing and contradictory.  How did they breed at all?  
She placed the tray at the end of the bunk, deciding there was another cup of tea to be had by swirling the pot.  Cookies; she still had some cookies left.  She reached under her pillow and pulled out the package, opening it cautiously.  There were three left, so she could have one and save the last two, surely he’d do something soon?  He wouldn’t leave her here, would he?   
She slid her fingers into the brown paper and pulled at a ginger treat, but her heart skipped a beat at the touch of metal under the selected morsel.  Guilty green eyes darted up to the sheriff before she suppressed a secret smile.  A lock pick?  She should never really have doubted him.  Valentine had never let her down.         
   
Jacobs strolled back to his desk from the latrines, the memory of the sleeping woman on a cell bunk playing in his mind’s eye.  He prayed to God that she wasn’t a criminal; that she was simply an innocent dupe caught up in some kind of flimflam, but he feared the worse – the actions of Miss Elise Daignault did not add up.  Shame – she was really something special – beautiful, intelligent and very feminine.  He’d never met anyone quite like her.  These types of criminals tended to stick to the big cities.   
He sighed deeply and wished things were different.  Whenever a clever woman came to this town she already seemed to be attached, and now a single one had turned up she appeared to be some kind of criminal.  Ah, well, some things were sent to try us.  Like being bound to the office - that wasn’t really his thing but someone had to be here at all times when they had a prisoner.   
He blinked, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of the cell door sitting open and the cell completely empty.  “Damn!”  
Jacobs ran for the door.  She had been sound asleep and he hadn’t been gone above five minutes.  Where the hell could she have gone?  He clattered onto the sidewalk, blinking in the caustic sunlight.  Herb Maitland smiled casually at the lawman as he mopped the area outside his pharmacy.   
“Everything alright, sheriff?”  
“A woman,” Jacobs raised his hand.  “Yay big, light brown hair...”  
Herb grinned.  “And eyes like a forest pool on a summer’s day?  Yeah, I saw her.  There aren’t many women going around town without a hat either, so she sure stood out a bit.”  
Jacob’s snorted.  He had no time for the wordsmith pharmacist today.  “Which way did she go?”  
Herb frowned and pointed towards the alley across the road.  “She went that way, shifting at quite a pace too.  Why, did she...?”  Herb drifted off, his still pointing finger now redundant as the lawman took off at full speed.  Herb shrugged and returned to his mopping.  “I guess she did – whatever it was.”    
Jacobs ran into the alley, pausing between every building to peer into the shadows.  His eyes landed on a slumped figure slugging something from a grubby bottle.  Clint Walker’s face froze in the rictus shame of a secret drinker caught in the act.  “I ain’t drunk, sheriff, honest I ain’t.  Ya can’t lock me up for this.”    
“I’m not interested in you!  A woman ran down here.  Did you see her?”  
“Yeah,” Walker, pointed towards Seward Street, his exaggerated movements betraying his level of intoxication.  “She went thatta way.”  
“Thanks.”  Jacobs took off after his quarry, “and you’d better not be here when I come back, Walker.  Go home and sleep it off!”  
The lawman cursed under his breath as he ran.  Damn that woman, she had made a total fool of him.  He’d never lost a prisoner in his life, so to lose a tiny woman, from a locked cell!  He’d never live it down.   
The adrenaline pumping through his system drove him on to the end of the alley.  Crap!  She must have gone onto Seward Street after all.  He hot-footed it back into the bright sunlight, looking desperately up and down.  The church stood at the top of the road and the railway at the bottom.  Which way would she have headed?  Surely the railway station was too obvious.  Never mind - he had to choose something, and he had to make sure she didn’t leave town.  Jacobs flicked out his pocket watch, six minutes to three, and the next train left on the hour.  There was only one way to go – he had to make sure she wasn’t on the first train out of town.  Did she have money on her?  He hadn’t even searched her because it seemed indecent.  No way could he treat that little lady the same way as he did the cats from the whorehouse – well, he wasn’t going to make that mistake again!  
In a few minutes he was trotting along the platform, desperately staring into every carriage, but surely she wouldn’t be stupid enough to sit where she could be seen, would she?  Jacob’s dark eyes fixed on the man in the liveried uniform.  “Al!  I’m looking for a woman, real pretty, about five foot one?”  
“Ain’t we all, Carl,” the station master guffawed.  
“No!  One in particular.  She wasn’t wearing a hat, and I think she ran in here.  Have you seen her?”  
Al paused, his mobile face gradually arranging into a frown.  “No hat?  Yeah, there was one.  Went in the carriage at the end over there.”  
“Thanks!” Jacob followed the station master’s pointing finger and jumped up the steps.  “Don’t let this train go until I’ve checked it!”  
“Can’t do that, Carl.  We gotta make schedule.”   
Dozens of curious eyes fixed upon the sheriff who clung to the bulkhead panting furiously.  Man, he was getting out of condition – usually it was the horses that did all the running.  
“I’m looking for a woman,” he gasped.  “Just got on.”  Puff, wheeze!  He pointed to his head.  “No hat.”  
A horror-stricken voice squeaked from the back of the carriage.  “I didn’t know!  I would have worn one if somebody had told me.”  
Jacobs’ incredulous frown matched that of the mousey woman at the back.  “Worn what?”  
“A hat!”  Tears pricked at the woman’s eyes.  “I didn’t know it was illegal!  My last one got damaged and I came to see the new hat shop.”  A sob tore at hi-lo’s in her voice.  “It was closed.  I would have borrowed one if I’d known it was against the law, honest.”  
Jacobs tore his own headgear from his head in frustration, risking prosecution under the imaginary by-law.  “Are you the last woman who boarded here?”  
“Yes,” peeped the poor woman at an octave better audible to dogs.  “I’m sorry.”  
Jacobs turned to find the station master standing behind him.  “That’s her, Carl.  The woman who boarded without a hat.”  
Jacobs dragged his hand distractedly through his hair.  “She’s not the one I’m looking for.”  
“She’s not?”  Al mused deeply.  “She’s the only one I saw not wearin’ a hat.”  
“I won’t do it again,” the mouse trilled.  
“We need to depart, Carl.  We gotta be on time.”  
Jacobs heaved a sigh of resignation.  He couldn’t hold up the train to keep hold of a vagrant.  He was supposed to make sure they left town, not keep them here.  “Sure, Al.  The train can leave.”  
He wandered dejectedly out onto Seward Street, the thumping in his heart subsiding as quickly as his anger mounted.  Her words played through his mind.  'When professional people have a job to do, there’ll be things that just have to happen.  You can’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs.  We all understand that, don’t we?'.  
The light went on in his brain as realisation hit.  She’d been talking about herself - not him – and she’d apologised in advance.  What an idiot he’d been!  
He slumped against the wall, wondering how he was going to explain this to the mayor.  There were definitely some highly-skilled criminals at work in the area.  
“Good afternoon, Sheriff Jacobs.”  
He turned nodding towards the elderly woman making her way back to the hotel.  “Been shopping, Mrs. Bamforth?” he asked, tersely.  
“Church,” she responded.  “I go there every day.  I would have thought the pastor would have told you that.”  
Jacobs gave a harrumph.  “Where’s your son, ma’am?”  
The matron tilted her head, her showing the neck creped with age.  “Not that I approve, but I believe he’s in the saloon.  Boys!  They do have some disgusting habits, don’t they?  You’d think he'd want to come to church with his mother.”  
“Tell him I’ll be over to see him later.”  
She glanced over her shoulder before raising her parasol.  “I will, unless you see him first.” 

To Be Continued.  
   
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Historical notes  
> Cascogastric bout – is what the Victorians called a general upset stomach which was none too serious.   
> The etiquette lessons come from the The Madison Institute Newsletter, Fall Issue, 1894 - Instruction and advice for the Young Bride On the Conduct and Procedure Of the Intimate and Personal Relationships Of the Marriage State For the Greater Spiritual Sanctity Of this Blessed Sacrament And the Glory of God by Ruth Smythers, Beloved wife of The Reverend L.D. Smythers,  
> Pastor of the Arcadian Methodist Church of the Eastern Regional Conference Published in the year of our Lord 1894 Spiritual Guidance Press, New York City  
>  


	16. Stags and Hens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beer and reminiscing take over at Jed's stag party  
> Heyes and Randa take another step forward  
> The bridal shower is a huge success with new friendships and new revelations

Stags and Hens

Amy smiled up at Miranda.  “Are you sure I’m not imposing?  It seems a lot to ask, to take on a cripple you hardly know.”  
Twinkling blue eyes fastened on the woman in the wheelchair.  “But you didn’t ask.  I offered.”  
“Yes, but...”  
“But nothing,” Miranda spoke softly but firmly.  “I like to think we’ve become friends and you need some help to get back to normal.  Goodness, I could never live with myself if you went back home and fell over!  So, no more protests.  You can’t be alone and you have only one room.  I have two, so we need to be practical and keep you here.”  
Amy shrugged.  “I know it’s practical and the Gibson’s needed their home back, but it’s been four weeks and I can move around much more easily, especially with the wheelchair.  I’m sure I could go home now.”  
“It’s certainly given me a good opportunity to repay David and Tricia’s kindness.  They have done so much to help me settle in Brookswood, and I want to do the same for you.”  Miranda allowed a flicker of a frown to flutter over her smooth brow.  “Aren’t you happy staying with me?”  
Amy was quick to reassure her hostess.  “Oh, I would never want you to think that.  You have been so kind and I love our chats, not to mention the company,” she stretched over the table and laid a hand on Miranda’s.  “I just don’t want to overstay my welcome.”   
“Amy, it’s been six weeks since your accident and you’re mostly healed, but David is very concerned about your ankle.  He has said he considered amputation because it was so badly broken, so we really need to do everything we can to give you the best possible chance of a full recovery.  It makes no sense not to give it more time when there is so much at stake.  You can’t bear weight yet.  What if you fall over on your own and break something else?”     
“If you’re sure,” Amy nodded.  “I thought I could manage at home with the wheelchair.  It’s only a little room, and I could wheel myself through to the kitchen.”   
Miranda arched her brows.  “You’ll do no such thing!  You’ll stay where you have help.”  She paused.  “Is it because Hannibal comes here?”  
“No, of course it’s not.  I like him – a lot, but, well,” Amy sat back in her chair.  “Relationships haven’t always brought me happiness; so now, when I get into areas which are uncomfortable I back off quickly – before I get in too deep.”  
“Too deep?”  Miranda waited for Amy to respond, but she simply stared off into the corner of the room.      
“I’d only chatted to Hannibal a few times, I wasn’t committed.  I’d made a resolution that I’d never be in a relationship with anyone again if there was any risk of getting hurt.  I don’t mind seeing him; I just don’t want the attention he seems to bring with him.”  
“If he brought this down on your head, and it’s by no means certain that he did, he’d be sick to his stomach, Amy.”  
“I know,” a pair of serious blue eyes glistened at her hostess.  “and I don’t want to hurt him.  I do hope that he understands that this is about me and my history.  It’s about being selfish for the first time in my life and doing whatever I need to do to heal some very deep wounds.”   
Miranda tapped the table top idly.  “You’re not talking about a broken heart, are you Amy?”  
Amy sighed.   “Sometimes, it’s better to be alone.  I’ve learned to love my future more than my past.  It’s not a good place to stay.  When I see shadows of that I back off quickly.”  
Miranda stood and placed a comforting hand on her new friend’s shoulder.  “Did he hit you, Amy?  
“I loved him with all my heart, Randa, but I don’t miss him.”  Amy’s voice cracked with emotion.  “I grew not to like him.  Is that terrible?”   
“No, it’s honest.”  Miranda walked over to the range and put the tea kettle on to boil.  “You feel how you feel.  You have a bouncy personality, and that retreats very quickly when you’re threatened, but it’s coming back.  You’re quite right to want life on your own terms.  I know very well that being single doesn’t always mean you’re available.”    
“You’re waiting for the right one.  Not just anyone,” Amy whispered.  “You are quite right, you know.  You deserve a good man, Randa.”    
“Thank you.  And you, Amy?  What do you want?”  
The blonde woman shook her head.  “I’m looking for peace.  You had a happy marriage, so you are keen to have more of that and you also know what that looks like.  Me?”  Amy shrugged.  “My judgement was clearly off, and for all I know it always will be.”  
Miranda poured the boiling water into the teapot.  “Give it time.  There are wonderful people out there, of both sexes.”  
“I know, and I’ve been lucky enough to fall amongst them,” Amy sighed.  “But how can I repay all of this?”  
“Repay?”  Miranda gave Amy a quizzical look.  “You step in and help neighbours and friends when they need it.  It’s how small towns work, but I guess coming from Chicago means this is all new to you?”  
“Yes,” Amy smiled and set the cups on the saucers as Miranda brought the teapot over to the table.  “Friends?  Who’d have thought it?  Harold didn’t like me having friends, but look at me now!”  
“I think Harold may have felt inadequate around you, Amy.  Rather than be proud of your fun, he tried to squash it because he couldn’t keep up.  Nobody’s doing that anymore,” Miranda held out a cup of tea.  “Now, drink your tea.  Maybe we can get you some things from the shop so you can start making some hats again?  You will need some stock when you have the grand re-opening.”  
“I don’t know about that,” Amy murmured, doubtfully.  
“We both know you have to stay in Brookswood because of the mortgage on the shop.  You’ve nobody to sell to, and the payments need to be made.  Mr. Calhoune at the bank is trying to be understanding, but we do need to think about getting the business up and running again.”  
“I suppose...”  
“And David wants you to start using those fingers again.  Surely you’d rather make hats than weave baskets and play with clay?”  
Amy looked around the room.  “I’d mess up your kitchen.”  
“So?  A used kitchen makes a house a home.”  Miranda smiled beguilingly.  ”Why don’t I get some of your things and you can make a start?”  
Amy opened her mouth to reply but was cut off by a rap at the door.    
“Who can that be?” Miranda rose to her feet.    
“It’s Hannibal,” Amy replied, cautiously.  “I think I’m getting to know his knock.”      
        
 Amy sipped at her tea, listening to the hissed whispers in the hallway.  There was clearly some urgent exchange going on, but the doorknob eventually turned and Miranda led Heyes into the kitchen.  
“You were right, Amy.”  Miranda’s smile was shared amongst her guests.  “It was Hannibal, and I managed to persuade him to enjoy some tea with us.”  
“Amy?”  Heyes nodded in her direction.  “It’s good to see you looking so well again.”   
“Thank you.  I’ll get a cup.”  Amy started to wheel herself across the room, but was cut off by Heyes who frowned in concern.    
“No!  I’ll do it.”  
Miranda laid a restraining hand on his arm.  “No,” she murmured firmly.  “She can do it herself, and you must let her.”  
“She’s right, Hannibal.”  Amy stretched up at the dresser and clutched at a cup with straining fingers.  “I need to start bridging that world between invalid and independent woman, and Miranda has been a wonderful support.  She pushes me in all the right areas and also stops me running before I can walk.”  Amy’s smile twitched into her old, familiar cheeky grin.  “Quite literally, in fact.”  
Heyes stepped back to avoid the turning wheelchair.  “Glad to hear it.”  
Miranda placed the cup on the saucer and poured out the tea.  “I’m very strict,”  
“She’s very kind,” Amy corrected.  
“Hannibal came to ask you something.”  Miranda handed the cup over to Heyes and waved him to a seat.  
“You did?”  
Heyes paused, trying not to make it look like he was squirming at being put on the spot.  He’d actually come here to ask Miranda to pose the question on his behalf.  “Kinda...”  
“Good!”  Miranda turned on her heel and headed for the hooks by the door.  “I have to fetch a few things I’ll see you two later.”  
Heyes leaped to his feet.  “I’ll come with you.”  
The bonnet was still dangling by the ribbons laced through her long fingers as she held up a hand to stop him.  “No.  You two need to talk, and Amy needs to explain something to you.”  She threw the shawl over her graceful shoulders.  “And I want you to have done with all this nonsense by the time I get back.”  
“Randa, I...”  
“Sit down, Hannibal, and talk to Amy.  Don’t make me tell you again.”    
The door clattered shut behind her, leaving two sets of floundering eyes averting their gaze awkwardly from one another.  The air seemed thick with unspoken inhibitions as both of them lifted their cups simultaneously and stared into the tan-coloured contents as though they concealed all the secrets of the universe.  They listened to the sonorous ticking of the clock; resonant and profound, cutting through the silence, apparently marking time passing and standing still simultaneously.   
“Oh this is stupid.”  Heyes put his cup down with a clatter.  “We used to be friends.  Amy, Beth and Belle wondered if their hats were wearable.  They thought you’d almost finished them before the accident and the wedding is coming up fast.  They’ll pay you for them.”  
“Oh, yes, I’d forgotten all about the wedding!  How selfish of me,” Amy shook her blonde head ruefully.  “They’re all but finished.  I just have to add the bonnet strings.  I can do that if somebody brings me what I need.”  
“Are you up for it?  I mean are you really well enough to finish them?”  
Amy nodded.  “Certainly.  In fact, Randa was just nagging me to start working on my hats in her kitchen.  I thought it was time I went home.”  
Heyes’ eyebrows rose, watching the woman in the wheelchair closely.  “Home?  On your own?  Are you mad?”  
“It would appear so,” Amy smiled ruefully.  “I thought I could manage, but nobody else shares my opinion.”  
“You’re in a wheelchair, Amy.  There are so many things you can’t do.”  
“Maybe, but some people live their whole lives in wheelchairs.  They manage.”  
Heyes put his cup on the table and leaned forward, fixing her with deep, dark eyes.  “Amy.  You nearly died.  We were all worried sick.  Trying to get back to normal is a wonderful thing, but you can’t rush it.  David will be overseeing your activities from a distance, and trust me, he won’t let you wallow.  He’ll make Randa push you, but he’ll tell you off good and proper if you do something stupid.”  He sat back with a knowing frown, “and I should know.  I’ve had the rough edge of his tongue often enough.”  
Amy nodded before she paused.  “Hannibal, I think I hurt you and I’m sorry.  Really I am.”  
Heyes sighed.  “It’s fine.”  
“No it’s not.  When I sent you away it was about me, not about you.  I don’t know what caused this whole thing, but the least suggestion that somebody wanted to get to you through hurting me hit hard.”  She dropped her head.  “Physical pain has other connotations for me.  I’ve been hurt in a way which stripped away my personality bit by bit.  I re-built myself, but this was a setback in that recovery.  When I sent you away it was because of who I am, not who you are.”  Amy blinked back tears.  “Can you ever forgive me for allowing that to hurt you?”      
Heyes strode over to her.  “Oh, Amy, I was so worried about you.  Of course I forgive you!  I can’t tell you how pleased I am that we’re friends again.”  He embraced her warmly.  “I hope to God that this was nothing to do with me.  I’d never hurt you.”  
“If I tell you that I want to be your friend, but we should take things slowly; at a pace I can deal with, could you do that?”  
“Of course I could.”  
“Right now I just want to have women around me.  Can we take this slowly?”  She gave him a wry smile.  “It’ll give you more time with Randa in any case.”  
Heyes dropped a kiss on the top of her head.  “Women?  Yeah, there are some real fine women in this town, that’s for sure.”  
“Miranda, huh?” Amy sighed.  “She probably got sick of us avoiding one another when you came to see her and decided it was time to knock our heads together.”  
“Yeah,” Heyes grinned.  “She’s real subtle.”  His eyes darkened.  “What did he do to you, Amy?  How could anyone who claims to love a woman hurt her like that?”  
Amy pursed her lips, her blue eyes becoming withdrawn and distant.  “People seem to think love is a soft thing but it can be fierce and primitive.  Love can strip things away – possessing and consuming as it goes.  Why do we forget that everything bright also has a dark side?  Love shapes us all, but it’s not always a force for good.”  
Heyes stared at her, considering her words and realising that she was right.  The dark side of love had certainly shaped his life; men worried about their family wealth had destroyed his folks, the deep love of a father had led to a vendetta against everyone close to him, and family loyalty had almost killed him in prison.  
This simple hat maker had managed to encapsulate his life in a few words.  “I guess we just have to make the choice to turn away from that, huh?”  
Amy nodded.  “Yes, and sometimes we need to have friends understand the work we have to do to get there.  That’s all I ask.”  
They sat together in silence for the longest time, but this time is was a pensive hush.  Eventually Heyes stood.  “Amy, I knew there was more to you than the dizzy blonde, when I met you.  You can have all the time you need.  Now, I’m going to put that teakettle on.  Our tea has gone cold.”       
“It has.  Let’s have some more.”  
Heyes filled the kettle and put it on the range.  “Amy, do you mind if I ask you something?  Is your husband really dead?  
The slim eyebrows rose in surprise.  “I certainly hope so.  We buried him.”  
The room filled with clumsy, emotional laughter.    
“I’m sorry to ask.  I just wondered if he might still be out there somewhere?  If he could have been behind what happened to you?”    
Amy shook her head firmly.  “He’s dead, a victim of a bout of influenza which swept through our neighbourhood in 1879.  I got it too, but he was always a martyr to his chest.  I recovered.”    
Heyes leaned against the range and crossed his legs at the ankle.  “No, Amy, you started to recover.  I guess I can relate to that because I’ve just started down the same road.  Maybe we can agree to meet at the other end, huh?”        

 

“C'mon Kid! Let's go! They're waiting for us!”

“Yeah, I know—I'm comin'!” 

But he wasn't coming too quickly, because right at that moment Jed had his arms full of his fiance and was giving her a number of kisses upon her face and neck. Beth was giggling and enjoying every moment of it and though she knew her man really did need to get going, she was finding it difficult to let go of him.

“Okay darlin', I best get going.”

“Yes, I know.”

Jed leaned over and kissed her again and she held onto him and gave no indication of pushing him towards the front door.

“KID!” Heyes' strident voice came through the open front door from the yard where he was impatiently sitting his horse. Even Karma was tossing her head in irritation at the delay. It was such a fine spring evening and everyone was ready to go—what was the delay? “C'mon! It'll be dark before we get to town at this rate!”

“Yeah, I'm coming!” Jed shouted back. “Just hold your horses will ya'?!”

“Well that's the problem! I am holding them and they want to get going too!!”

“Best get going Jed,” Jesse commented from behind his paperwork. “or Hannibal just might ride into town on his own and they'll have your stag without you.”

“Do you really think he might?” Jed asked with mock hopefulness.

Beth laughed and gave him a gentle pat on the chest. “Oh go on you!” she teased him. “You know you want to go and you know you'll have a good time....” She waved a cautionary finger at him. “...just don't have too good a time.”

“Yes, darlin'.” Jed smiled and leaned in for another kiss.

“Oh Thaddeus! Are you still here!?” Belle commented as she entered the living area with the tea pot and three cups. “Off you go or Joshua will head into town without you.”

“Yes, ma'am.” Jed agreed. “I'm off.”

“Good!” Jesse commented, slightly exasperated. “Go! We'll see you tomorrow.”

“Have fun.” Beth smiled at him as he gave her one more quick peck on the cheek.

“See you tomorrow.”

“It's about time!” Heyes groused as he tried to hold the two antsy horses in place. “Everyone will already be drunk before we get there at this rate.”

“Yeah, yeah Heyes. I'm comin'.”

Kid reached up and took Gov's reins from Heyes' control and quickly mounted up. The two friends locked eyes and Heyes grinned.

“Well, partner,” he teased. “this is it—sure ya' don't wanna just keep on riding?”

“Yeah, I'm sure Heyes.” Kid touched his heels to Gov's side and the young horse eagerly stepped into a canter. “Let's go party!”

“Ha ha!” Heyes took off his hat and slapped it across Karma's rump. The mare gave a little buck and jumped into a gallop, catching up with Gov who then instantly joined up with her and both horses found their rhythm and headed towards town at a run.

Beth stood out on the front porch watching her betrothed gallop away with his friend. She cradled her tea cup as she leaned against the post, a wistful smile upon her face. Belle came out to join her, putting an arm around her waist and pulling her daughter into a hug.

“What are you thinking, sweetheart?” Belle asked her.

“Oh, just how much I love him,” she answered, her eyes sparkling. “And how much fun our wedding day is going to be. It's so close now. After waiting all this time, finally it's just around the corner.”

“Are you nervous?” the mother asked.

Beth thought about that for a moment. “No,” she finally answered. “Excited—but not nervous.”

“Good. It'll be a fine day.”

“Yes,” Beth agreed matter-of-factly. “It is a shame that Abi and Becky can't be here though—I had hoped....”

“Yes, I know.” Belle sighed, feeling some regret on that matter herself. “Sometimes things just don't always work out the way we think they should.”

“I almost feel guilty,” Beth admitted. “Here Jed and I are coming up to one of the happiest days of our lives and poor, dear Joshua must be heartbroken. It's really not fair.”

“No, it's not,” Belle agreed. “But at least it was the choice they both made. And it was the right choice—the responsible choice.” She smiled and hugged her daughter close again. “I think it says a lot for Joshua; it shows how much he has matured and that he is no longer just thinking about himself. That he loves another person so much that he is willing to lose her from his life in order to keep her safe. Sometimes that is what being a parent is all about.”

“Yes, I suppose,” Beth agreed with a heavy sigh. “But that's what makes it so sad. He and Abi love each other.”

“Yes,” Belle agreed. “But they both love their daughter more.” Then she smiled and gave Beth an affectionate rub. “And it won't be forever. Abi has promised to tell Becky about her father when she's older. Joshua may come to know her yet. In the mean time, young lady; we have some last minute things to prepare for your big day! Your sister and Clementine are already in the kitchen getting started, so come along!”  
“Yes mama, I'm coming!”

“Mr. Calhoune?”  Miranda fixed the bank manager with questioning eyes.  
“Mrs. Thornton.  Is Mrs. Oliphant at home for visitors?  I have been told she is staying with you.”  
“She’s staying here while she recuperates.  Can I help you?”  
Calhoune shook his grey head.  “No, I’m afraid this is a delicate matter.”  
One dark eyebrow arched suspiciously.  “Delicate?  That usually means you want money, considering you are a bank manager.”  
“I really cannot discuss this with a third party.”  
Miranda stood her ground, folding her arms obstinately.  “Amy only had her accident six weeks ago, she couldn’t have missed more than one payment.”  
“Two, actually.”  
“I thought you said you couldn’t discuss it.”   
The grey mutton chops positively bristled at the woman who had the impudence to defy a man as important as Gilbert Nickerson Calhoune.  Didn’t she know who he was?  “I can’t, I was merely clarifying.”  
“Amy cannot be bothered with such matters at the moment.  She has been very badly injured.  I’m sure she will make payments as soon as she is able.”  Miranda made to close the door but found a shiny shoe in the way.  
“I’d rather discuss that with her.”  
“I’m sure you would, but she is somewhat indisposed on account of almost being crushed to death.  I'm sure you’ll be able to relate to that if you don’t move your foot very quickly.”  
“The bank requires prompt payment.”  
“And Mrs. Oliphant needs enough time to recover before she can start earning money in the shop.  If you put pressure on her it won’t help.  She almost died.  She doesn’t need to have any extra worry.”     
“Mrs. Thornton, you don’t want her to lose her shop do you?  She lives at the back.  She would lose her home, everything she has.”  
“Mr. Calhoune, we all know that she has a business which will bring customers flocking from far and wide.  Your bank will get payments very soon.  She just needs some time.”  
“The next payment is due on the twentieth of the month, so she has a few weeks to catch up.  I do need to warn her that the bank will foreclose if she misses four installments.  It’s only fair to her to give her plenty of warning…”  
Calhoune found himself the target of a particularly harsh stare.  “I see.  I must inform you that it’s only fair to warn you that I am about to slam this door,” Miranda stared down at his foot, “and anythingin its path will be caught in a painful clinch.  Good afternoon, Mr. Calhoune!”  
The heavy door was pulled back before being rapidly swung with both hands.  Miranda just had time to see the rotund bank manager dance back from the doorstep with a surprising daintiness before it slammed firmly shut.  
“Who was that?” called a female voice from the kitchen.  
Miranda popped her head around the door, looking at Amy sitting amongst a sea of ribbons, feathers and flowers.  “Nobody important.  I ordered a book, and they sent a boy to tell me it’s in.”  
Amy held a hat out at arm’s length to judge the balance of the roses decorating the brim.  “Why didn’t they just send it with him?”  
“That’s what I said.  I’m just going to collect it.  Will you be alright on your own for a while?”  
Amy nodded.  “Of course.  What do you think I’m going to do?  Run with scissors?”  
“I might pop in to see Tricia too.”  
Amy waved Miranda off with her hand.  “I’ll be fine.  I’m keeping busy.  This was a really good suggestion.  I’m enjoying myself”  
“Great,” Miranda smiled, warmly.  “I’ll see you in a bit.”  
Miranda pulled on a shawl and grabbed her bag.  Surely as a respected professional David would know somebody who had influence in this matter?  The bank would get its money.  All Amy needed was a little time. 

 

Heyes and the Kid rode into town all full of smiles and high spirits. They headed over to the livery first in order to put their horses up for the night, intending to sleep off the party at David's place rather than attempt to ride home in the dark. Both Karma and Gov thought this was rather odd, since a lope into town was hardly a taxing ride, but once they saw the nice rich hay that was being thrown out into the paddock for them, well this new arrangement suited them right down to their hooves. Neither one of them took note of their humans heading out the door and down the street.

The boys made a direct bee line over to the saloon, and pushing through the bat wing doors, Heyes approached the bar and waved Bill over.

“Everything in order?” Heyes asked him.

“Sure is,” Bill assured him. “Most of your friends are already there—what kept you?”

“Young love!” Heyes teased while Jed rolled his eyes. “Yessir, my old friend here just couldn't seem to tear himself away from his intended, even though he'll be seeing her again tomorrow and getting married to her the next day; he just couldn't leave her side!”

Bill snorted. “Just wait until you've been married a few years...” he commented, but with a laugh in his voice. “Bunch a' kids runnin' around screaming, the wife complaining that you haven't fixed the pump in the kitchen yet.....you'll be itching to get away and come down to the saloon for a drink or two! How do ya' think I stay in business?”

“Yeah, alright. You fellas go ahead and have your fun,” Jed joked back. “But I ain't gonna be one of those husbands who needs to be nagged at in order to get somethin' done. The pump in the kitchen will get fixed before it ever breaks down.”

Heyes and Bill exchanged smiles and Heyes gave his friend a slap on the back.

“That's right there, Thaddeus!” he teased. “You are going to be the perfect husband!”

“Yeah!” Jed agreed wholeheartedly as Heyes led him over towards their reserved back room. “She'll have no reason to complain!”

“You bet! Beth is real fortunate to have such a fine, considerate fella for a husband.”

“Yeah!”

 

The empty tray was deposited on the dining table with a clatter.  Gilbert Calhoune looked up at his wife in surprise.  The table was usually set by now – Eleanor took great pride on laying a lovely dinner table, replete with shimmering crystal glasses and white china plates, even since their son had gone East to university and there was just the two of them.  Appearances mattered to her.     
“Is dinner going to be late?”  He sniffed the air.  Where was Mabel?  The maid normally had the evening meal prepared by now, but all he could smell were the mothballs from Eleanor’s fur stole.  She was clearly going out.  Why?  It was dinner time.  
Eleanor shrugged.  “Late?  That depends.  What time did you book at the restaurant?”  
“Ellie?  What’s going on?”  
His wife glowered at him, all lemon-lipped and jutting-chinned.  “I’m going to mother’s, and I’m taking Mabel with me.”   
“So suddenly?  Is she ill?”  
“No.”  
“Ellie, why are you being so curt with me?”   
“Mother and I need Mabel’s help.”  She sniffed.  “Besides, I can’t guarantee the quality of Mabel’s food if she cooks for you right now.  She’s pretty mad at you too.”  
“Why?  What have I done?”  
“Done!?  You go to that poor woman looking for money at a time like this, and you ask what you’ve done?”  
Calhoune frowned, his great bushy eyebrows meeting like kissing caterpillars.  “What woman?”  
“The one from the hat shop!  Honestly, the first time we ladies get some of the sophistication we’ve dreamed of and all you can think of is a few grubby dollars.  There wasn’t any of that when saloons or bawdy houses needed financing?  Was there?”  She flounced over to the door.  “Oh, no!  The owners of those could even get shot in a drunken brawl and miss payments for months – and did you go hunting them down in their sickbeds?  No!  You did not!”  
“Ellie, what are you talking about?”  
“You know what I’m talking about, Gilbert!  That poor Mrs. Oliphant has only just started to get around in a wheelchair.  You know that shop was a sensation amongst womenfolk throughout this whole county, but you haven’t given that poor, innocent woman half the consideration you gave that unctuous, one-eyed, back-stabbing, racoon dropping of a flesh-pedlar, Bubba Jaxson!”  Eleanor drew herself up to her full five feet and sniffed.  “This was your chance to show some gratitude for the support the women have given to their men folk by coming all the way out here, leaving behind all the little fripperies and sophistications our sisters in the cities take for granted – and what did you do?  You circled like a vulture.   I’m embarrassed, Gilbert!  Mortified.   How can I hold my head up in this town now everyone knows what you’ve done?”  
“So I’m not getting any dinner?”  
Eleanor leaned across the table, eyeing her husband meaningfully.  “You’re not getting ANYTHING, Gilbert.  Am I clear?”  
“So you’re leaving me for that?”  
“The whole town has been up in arms about what happened to that poor woman, and I happen to know that a local businessman has been very interested in that shop since he saw what a very promising proposition it was.”  Eleanor stabbed the tabletop with her forefinger.  “You’re helping him snatch it out from under her nose, aren’t you?”  
“Nonsense.”  
“No?  I hear things, Gilbert.  I heard you talking with Andy Brock in your study.  Don’t make the mistake of thinking that I know nothing because I don’t open my mouth.  You plan to foreclose on that poor woman as quickly as you can so he can buy it out from under her - and when she’s ruined he’ll employ her to run her own shop!  Well, I am not standing for it.  Do you hear me?”  
“So, you’re going home to mother?”  
Eleanor gave her husband a knowing smile.  “Oh, no, Gilbert, you don't get off that lightly.  I’m staying with mother for a week,” she walked over to the door and turned to deliver her parting shot.  “Then she’s coming here to stay until you see sense, but you'll do your own cooking.  Mother will be paying Mabel's wages to keep us cared for.  I suggest you find a restaurant staffed by men for your dinner.  I wouldn’t rate your chances of escaping a few ‘marinades’ at the moment because your name is ‘Mudd’ in Brookswood right now.”     
Gilbert blinked in confusion.  “But who told everyone?”  
“Miranda Thornton, Tricia Gibson, Jessica Benson from the General store, and God only knows where it went after that.  You idiot!  How are we supposed to attract a better class of person to this town when you favour chisellers and deadbeats over hardworking, honest people.  Half the women in town were talking about this by the time Tricia Gibson got here.  Do you think I want to be seen siding with you?  I need to be able to hold my head up in this town.  Is it a crime to want to be able to do that and have it decked out in something lovely?”  
Gilbert stared at the closed door, the sound of it slamming behind her still resonating in his ears.  Damn, he was hungry!  

Heyes and the Kid entered into the back room and a cheer went up that actually drowned out the tinny music coming from the piano situated in the middle of the saloon floor. A few of the patrons glanced up and looked towards the back room then smiled knowingly and went back to their own socializing.

Inside the back room, Jed suddenly found himself the center of attention as a couple of strong arms grabbed him and pulled him over to the table. He was handed a tall mug of frothy beer and everybody it seemed was slapping him on the back. 

“Hey! Here he is!”

“Finally! The husband to be!”

“What took ya' so long? We were getting worried!”

“Yeah. Thought you might have had a change of heart and were making a break for Wyoming!”

Jed simply smiled and accepted the beer, along with the good natured teasing and cajoling.

“Hey Steven,” he greeted his soon to be brother-in-law. “I guess I'm not surprised you're here, since Bridget is out at the ranch.”

“I wouldn't miss this for the world,” Steven grinned. “The women are ganging up on us—it's time to even up the numbers!”

“Ah huh. Hey David!” Then another familiar face caught his attention and he grinned. “Lom! You made it!”

“Yeah, Kid, I did.” Lom came forward and shook the Kid's hand. “You came to my wedding so the least I could do was show up for yours. I'm real glad to be here too.”

“Aw, Lom that's great.” Jed was genuinely pleased. “It's good to see ya'. Is Martha here?”

“Oh yeah.” Lom nodded over a mouthful of beer. “She's over at the hotel getting acquainted with all the other ladies of the group. They're all gonna be best friends by the time this wedding is over with.”

“Oh?” Kid asked. “Who else has arrived already?” He scanned over the group and then his face lit up with pleasure again. “Kenny!” Another reach over to shake hands. “Your family here with you too?”

“Oh yes!” Kenny grinned and nodded. “The whole gang came along. Joe and Charlie will probably be joining us for a bit but they wanted to check out the town before it got dark. And Evelyn wasn't going to miss your wedding for the world!”

“Oh dear.” Jed looked a little worried. “She's not upset is she?”

“No no,” Kenny assured him. “She's determined to take the high road and accept defeat like a real lady.”

“Ho ho!” Jed laughed. “This ought to be interesting!”

“Hi Kenny.” Heyes squeezed his way over to shake the warden's hand. “Good to see you.”

“Heyes.” Kenny smiled at him. “Good to see you stayed outa trouble after the incident in Joplin.”

Heyes rolled his eyes. “Nothing like a close call to help one to appreciate the finer things.”

“Good to hear it!”

All heads turned as the door opened and one more guest put in an appearance.

“Hey Harry!” Jed greeted their friend. “Ya' made it!”

“Howdy boys! Of course I made it!” Harry blustered. “Didn't think I'd miss an auspicious occasion like this did ya'?”

“Course not Harry!” Heyes gave him a slap on the back. “Here, have a beer.”

“Don't mind if I do.”

The door opened again and Bill strategically made his way into the room carrying a large round tray laden with thick meat sandwiches. Everybody made room for him as he made his way over to the table and settled the large offering down for their enjoyment. Then three lovely saloon gals, each carrying a large pitcher of beer and a big smile apiece followed the bartender over to the table and began to fill the empty glasses.

“Howdy boys!” the brunette greeted the assembly “How ya' all doin' tonight?”

“Fine!”

“Hear there's a private party goin' on in here!” the red head announced. “Everybody ready for a good time?”

“You betcha!”

“This is getting better and better!”

“Oh, you fellas are going to get me into trouble!”

Then much to Kenny's dismay, two more young men showed up at the door with faces grinning and eyes bright with mischief as they took in the appearance of those three lovely ladies. Joe and Charlie had arrived.

“I thought you two fellas were going to take in the sights of the town,” Kenny reminded his offspring as they sidled up to the table to accept beers from a pair of dazzling blue eyes.

“I think we've seen all there is to see out there Pa,” Charlie informed the parental unit. “Besides, it is starting to get dark.”

“Yeah, and I kinda like the view in here better anyways,” Joe added on his two bits worth.

Kenny smiled and rolled his eyes. “Just try not to do something you'd be ashamed to tell your mother.”

“Oh no! Of course not!

“Wouldn't dream of it!”

“Give them a break Kenny,” Heyes gave a mumbled aside. “How often do they get invited to a stag party?”

Kenny raised a eyebrow. “At their age? Once is too often.” He sighed wistfully, knowing it was a losing battle. “Sarah will never let me live this down if we have two boys with hangovers tomorrow morning.”

“Ah! Builds character.”

“Like running down a back alley, in the dead of winter, shooting your gun off at anything that moves?”

Heyes scowled as he caught Jed laughing at him with his eyes. “I'm never going to live that down am I?”

“Nope,” the warden informed him. Then he laughed and gave the ex-con a slap on the back. “C'mon Heyes, have another beer! Lighten up—it's a party!”

“Oh fine!” Heyes grumbled. “Now I'm the stick in the mud.”

The little redhead heard the snarking and was quick to intervene; she snuggled into the handsome man and presented him with another beer, just as Kenny had suggested.

“Hi there, Mr. Heyes,” she cooed at him. “My but you are a good looking man.”

Heyes grinned till his dimples took over his face. “Good evening to you Clara.”

Clara showed mock surprise. “My goodness! You actually know my name! Here I thought that you never took notice.”

“Hard not to notice a pretty little lady like you.”

“Well, now I hear that you're single again, handsome.” Clara beamed. “Maybe you and I can get together some time.”

Kenny snorted and quickly gathered up his two boys who were hang-dogging over this little snippet of foreplay and ushered them over to the other side of the room—just in time to be accosted by Matilda, the brunette.  
Heyes grinned even deeper at the sight of Kenny trying to corral his sons and then turned his attention back to his feminine companion.  
Jed in the meantime had his hands full of Susie and she was tossing her blond hair around and loving every minute of it.

“It's a real shame Jed, you gettin' hitched.” She sulked as she rubbed against his thigh. “I was kinda hopin' that with the wedding gettin' put off like that maybe you was havin' second thoughts.”

“Nope,” Kid informed her, though he didn't push her away either. Feeling her ample form pressing against him was real pleasing. “So don't you go gettin' any ideas now—I'm gonna be a happily married man real soon.”

Susie wasn't about to give up yet. She prided herself on being able to get any man into bed, married or not. That was her job after all.

“Well, now most of the men I service are married,” she reminded the blond curls. “A little old wedding band don't mean nothin' to me. Besides; you ain't married yet.”

Then to press her point she moved in even closer and her right hand went south until Jed caught his breath and nearly dropped his beer. He showed real strength of character though and gently moved away from her.

“Oh now Susie, don't you be doin' that,” he playfully chided her. “I intend to behave.”

“Aww” Susie pouted. “Just a kiss then.”

“Well, just a kiss....”

Heyes grinned as he watched his partner struggling with nature and then turned his attention back to the lovely Clara. Maybe he could just pretend that she was Abi....

The evening progressed along, the noise level getting higher as the beer pitchers got lower and more and more people from the town dropped by to join in on the fun. Sam came for a quick beer and a sandwich and then Joe the deputy also put in an unofficial visit to give his congratulations to the groom to be. Even Carl Jacobs dropped by and got into quite the conversation with Kenny and Lom concerning the affairs over in Cheyenne and how statehood was going to change the mode of law enforcement. Harry did his best to keep up with this topic but ended up putting his foot in his mouth so many times he decided to go put a sandwich in it instead. 

More saloon gals showed up and before ya' know it, an impromptu song and dance got going, and the piano playing took on a whole new rhythm. The fine young ladies were hooting and hollerin', hoisting up their skirts and kicking up their legs and the party was in full swing. They even bent over and gave their backsides a brief glimpse of daylight, much to the excitement and pleasure of the younger men who were present! Everybody was having a good time and everybody—including Kenny—got at least a little bit drunk.

Late evening rolled around and the party was getting into high gear when two more quests arrived and Heyes and the Kid were quick to give boisterous greetings.

“Hey fellas!” Heyes greeted them, giving them both a slap on the back. “Ya' made it!”

“Yeah, a' course Heyes. We weren't goin' ta' miss this.”

Kid came staggering over, the half full beer glass spilling even more of its contents. “Ahh! Wheat! Kyle!” And he ended up giving Kyle a beer sodden hug. “Ya' came!”

“Yeah Kid,” Wheat repeated, thinking how relieved he was that Kyle was the recipient of the physical part of that greeting. 

“Hey Kid!” Kyle smiled but pushed the larger man off of him. “Ya' havin' a good time?”

“Sure am!” Kid burped. “C'mon--'av a beer!”

“Don't mind if I do,” Wheat accepted the offer while Kyle simply smiled and nodded, keeping his eye on his ex-boss just in case another hug was forthcoming.

“Howdy there boys.” Lom had made his way over to the gathering, just to let his presence be known.

“Oh ah—howdy there Lom,” Wheat returned the greeting, albeit a little nervously. “Ahh, now we delivered them parcels like ya' asked us to so....it's alright us bein' here, ain't it?”

“I suppose,” Lom admitted. “Just keep in mind that the amnesty isn't common knowledge yet. Probably for the best that the local law has already left the party.”

“Hi'ya Lom,” Kyle grinned over at him. “How's yer wife doin''?”

“Good Kyle.” Lom nodded. “She told me to tell ya' to make sure ya' keep up with your practising.”

“Yeah, sure. I got my reader right out there in my saddle bags,” Kyle boasted. “Don't go nowhere's without it.”

“That's good Kyle.” Lom nodded. “I'll be sure to tell her. Stay outa trouble boys.”

Lom made his way back over to his previous conversation, snatching up another beer as he went. Heyes grinned and slapped Wheat on the shoulder again.

“Aw, c'mon! Don't pay him no mind,” Heyes suggested. “We had to put up with that for five years, remember?”

“Yeah, well I hope it ain't gonna be no five years for me,” Wheat grumbled. “I still say this ain't no kinda deal at all when we can't tell nobody. What good's that?”

“Naw, it'll be fine!” Heyes assured him. “If you're gonna come work for us you gotta pretend to still be an outlaw—how else are ya' gonna get into all those places the law can't go?”

“I still don't like it,” Wheat grumbled.

Then Wheat's expression turned to one of pleasure as two of the gals slid their way over to the newcomers, bringing beers and bouncing bodices with them.

“Howdy boys!” the first one greeted them. “You look like you could do with some entertainment!”

“Yes ma'am!” Wheat agreed as he accepted the beer. Kyle just giggled.

Soon most of the closer acquaintances of the groom-to-be were gathered around the table where the beer and sandwiches were easily accessible. The drinking had slowed down at least for the time being and more sandwiches were being consumed. Talk was taking over from partying and everyone had a chance to catch their breath. A number of the fellas had ladies on their laps, or seated on chairs next to them and everybody was enjoying cracking jokes and reminiscing.

“You fellas remember that job we pulled down there by Ansleyville?” Wheat asked the group in general. “Where we only rode away with $10.00 apiece?” 

Heyes groaned. “Nobody's ever going to let me forget that one.”

“$10.00 apiece?” David questioned. “Sounds to me like you made more money gambling, Han.”

“Well now, the Ansleyville job wasn't typical, ya' understand...” 

“I donno Heyes...” the Kid sounded sceptical. “that Handford job didn't net much more.”

“Aww c'mon!” Heyes complained. “Ya' keep bringing up the same two jobs! Two bad jobs outa, how many we pulled? That's not bad.”

Wheat snorted. “There was others!” he reminded his ex-boss. “You just like to forget about 'em.”

“That's the thanks I get,” Heyes mumbled. “I get no respect.”

“I respect ya' honey,” purred the dark-haired beauty as she cuddled in closer to the dimpled one.

Heyes grinned and nuzzled in for some kisses.

“What was an average take on a job?” Steven asked, trying to ignore the passionate play going on across the table from him. “I mean, just out of curiosity.” 

Heyes came up for air and he and the Kid exchanged looks, neither of them knowing how to answer that one.

“Well...when we were with Jim, a good haul would usually bring in a few thousand dollars,” Wheat calculated. “After that, well....”

“Yeah!” Heyes interjected. “After I took over—you tell 'em, Wheat!”

“I suppose $10,000.00 was an average haul.”

A few whistles went around the table along with some incredulous laughing.

“Jeez Lom!” Steven asked him, teasingly. “What in the world made you quite that life? Surely a sheriff doesn't even come close to making that amount.”

Lom sent an accusatory glance over to Wheat, kinda wishing this line of conversation had never gotten started. “Well now, you fellas have to remember, that money was split a number of ways. Not to mention having to have enough to get the gang through the winter months. When all was said and done, it really didn't amount to much.”

“Better than a sheriff's pay though,” Wheat commented as he took a swig of beer.

“Ya' know that's not the only reason I quit!” Lom was feeling defensive. “That kinda life just ain't no good for ya'! You fellas figured that out too—just took ya' a little longer.”

“Yeah,” Kyle spoke up. “Look what happened to them other boys. You and me, Wheat—we's lucky we got through that.”

Wheat nodded. “Yeah, true enough.”

“I'd like to raise a toast!” Heyes announced, hoisting up his glass of beer. “To the boys of the Devil's Hole! Fine bunch 'a fellas!”

“Ya!”

“Here! Here!”

“To the Devil's Hole!”

Numerous glasses met above the middle of the table and the ex-outlaws all drank to the toast. David and Steven felt a little left out and Harry just scowled, hoping that nobody from the Bannerman agency was spying on the party! 

“Now I wanna make a toast too,” Wheat announced and he raised his glass. “To Red Man! He weren't much of an outlaw, but he saved my life!”

This time all the glasses met in the center, even though the officials there didn't know who Red Man was.

“I haven't thought about Red Man for ages,” Lom admitted. “I can't even remember his real name now.”

“Redmond,” Heyes informed his friend. “Ah...Quincy?”

“Quentin,” Wheat corrected him.

“Yeah, that's right!” Heyes grinned. “Quint Redmond. One man entertainment center. Anyone know what he's up to these days?”

“Yeah, he settled down by the Colorado River,” Wheat informed them all. “Got a family now—every single one of them kids got red hair and freckles, just like their old man!”

Everybody groaned and more laughter made its way around the group.

“That kid was all thumbs, I swear,” Jed remembered. “How did he save your life Wheat?”

“Oh well, after that episode with Morrison he's the one who done pulled me outa the river,” Wheat told them. “Took me back to their home and patched me up real good.”

“Hmm.” Heyes nodded. “At least he found a way to do something right. All red headed, huh?”

“Yup.”

“What made him such a bad outlaw?” Steven enquired.

Again snorts and laughter went around the table.

“Aww, it wasn't his fault.” Heyes tried to be kind. “He was just all thumbs is all.”

Lom laughed. “Are you referring to the time he smashed his thumb with the hammer and then dropped the hammer on his foot?”

“Or the time we stopped that train and he got his thumb caught in the freight car door?” Wheat contributed.

“I seem to recall him tying his thumb up to the hitching rail along with his horse,” Kid remembered with a smile. “To this day, I don't know how he managed that.”

“I think the worst one was when he got it caught up in the trigger of his six shooter,” Heyes commented. “Damn near shot his own foot off.”

“Sounds like a real klutz,” Harry commented seriously.

Everyone looked over at him and tried not to laugh.

“Good one there, Harry,” Jed chided him.

Harry shrugged. “Just an observation, Kid.”

Then everybody did laugh.

“What happened to him?” Charlie asked, finally speaking up. “Sounds like he'd be more of a liability than an asset.”

“Oh, he finally figured that out for himself,” Heyes explained. “He quit the gang and went into farming.” Heyes frowned then, shaking his head. “I sure hope he learned how to keep his thumbs outa the way—farming can be a dangerous line of work!” He paled noticeably. “Can you imagine him with an axe?”

Everybody groaned, shaking their heads. Even those at the table who hadn't known him, could see how that would have been disastrous. 

“He appeared to be intact when I was with them,” Wheat assured everyone. “Had a pretty prosperous farm goin' too, from what I could tell.”

“That's good to hear,” Kid responded. “Cause he sure wasn't gonna make it outlawin'!”

“That's for sure!”

“You've said what your smaller hauls were like...” Joe ventured when the laughing had subsided. “What was the biggest haul you ever did?”

“Oh no!” Kenny rolled his eyes and gave his eldest a slightly reprimanding look. “Don't encourage him Heyes.”

Heyes grinned. “I don't think you have anything to worry about there Kenny.” He glanced over at the Kid as they both contemplated their answer. “What do ya' think? Would it still be that P & H '78 in Denver?”

Jed thought about it for a moment and then nodded. “Yeah. I figure.”

Both Joe and Charlie were leaning forward, excitement sparkling in their eyes. 

“How much?” asked Charlie.

“That netted us, ohh, thirty thousand?” Kid asked his partner.

Heyes contemplated. “Yeah,” he finally agreed. “Considering some of the bonds, and the jewelry that was in there as well.”

“Oh, wow!” was Charlie's response while his older brother simply whistled.

“Well now that might be the biggest haul you two ever made,” Wheat puffed himself up. “but after you fellas run off to get your amnesty and I took over the gang, I believe we done ya' one better.”

“Yeah!” Kyle grinned.

“You had a haul more than that?” Heyes asked somewhat incredulously. “I never heard about it.”

“Sure ya' did!” Wheat needled him. “It's the one you and the Kid done walked away from.”

Heyes and the Kid exchanged glances. “Ya' mean Carbondale?” Heyes asked. “The safe that ended up in the lake?”

“Sure do,” Wheat was almost gloating. 

Kyle was giggling the way he does when he's excited but then he looked to his partner to tell the story. 

“We gave that area time to cool off,” Wheat explained. “Then about three weeks later we went back to that lake and this time we found that safe and done hauled it outa there.”

Heyes grinned. “Ya' did?”

“Sure did,” Wheat confirmed. “We was kinda worried that the water woulda gotten into the safe and ruined the money, but they really made that safe solid. Kyle here put his expertise to use and he blew it right then and there. You were right Heyes; fifty thousand dollars. We had a real easy winter that year.”

Kyle slapped the table in his glee and the two men tapped their own glasses in a toast to each other.

“Woo hoo!” Joe laughed excitedly. “Fifty thousand dollars!”

“I don't think we should be hearing this,” Kenny commented again.

“This definitely comes under client confidentiality,” Steven muttered into his beer.

“You fellas got that safe outa the lake and blew it?” Heyes asked, somewhat incredulously.

“Yup!” Kyle confirmed yet again.

Heyes smiled and raised his own glass in a toast to his two friends. “Well done! Serves us right for goin' straight, eh Kid?”

“Hmm hum,” was Kid's only comment.

“Why would you give up outlawin' when you can get hauls like that?” asked the youngest member of the group. 

Kenny gave Heyes a look, like; you better make this good or there's a prison cell waiting for you back in Wyoming. Heyes gave an impish grin but then nodded subtly.

“You of all people, Charlie, should know that outlawin' ain't all the dime novels crack it up to be; considering who your pa is,” Heyes responded. “Those were the good hauls, but like Lom pointed out; that money had to be split up amongst all the members of the gang, plus go towards stores for the winter. Not to mention the occasional doctor's fees! Now fifty thousand dollars—that's a good haul...” Heyes' eyes sparkled at the thought. “but hauls like that are few and far between.  
“Then, if you're lucky enough to survive into your thirty's you start slowing down. Your reflexes aren't quite the same and you're more likely to get hurt.” He smiled over at Jed. “I recall a conversation you and I had concerning jumping onto a moving train. You made some real valid points there, Partner.”

Jed nodded, the memory of the incident that had caused his trepidations coming back to the forefront.

“What about it?” Joe asked, all curious and eager for outlaw tales.

“Ah, well there was a fella who ran with us for a while, name of Murdoch...” 

“Oh damn Kid!” Wheat complained. “Did ya' havta bring him up? I thought this was suppose to be a fun party.”

“Yeah,” Kyle seconded, suddenly looking a little pale. “I'd done a real good job of forgettin' about that, now ya' gotta go bring it up again.”

This comment only succeeded in capturing everybody's attention.

“What happened?” David asked, trying to convince himself that it was for purely medical information that he was asking.

Heyes and Kid exchanged glances. Heyes gestured for Jed to take the floor.

“Okay.” Kid took a deep breath. “We were plannin' on stoppin' a train, same as usual. There really wasn't anything different about this job from any of the other numerous trains we'd stopped during our years at Devil's Hole, but it turned out to be a real bad day.  
“Jumpin' onto a moving locomotive ain't exactly smart in the first place but as Heyes likes ta' point out 'that's where the money is kept.' so that's what we did. I guess we got too complacent about it and stopped bein' careful, cause Murdoch ended up losin' his hold on the railin' and fell down between the cars.”

Everybody cringed, those who witnessed the accident as well as those who were hearing about it for the first time.

“He got killed?” Charlie asked, with a catch in his voice.

Kid nodded. “Eventually. Took him about two days, I reckon.....”

Silence. 

Finally Heyes broke it. “So you see, outlawin' isn't exactly what the dime novels crack it up to be,” he emphasized again. “It's dangerous on so many levels and if you live long enough to become too old to do it, you still wind up with nothing. Look at me; I'm forty years old and all I've got to show for my life is a prison record. I wasted my talents on selfish gains, I've lost more friends than I can count and now I've had to say 'goodbye' to the most precious thing a man can have; my family—my daughter.” He smiled and raised his glass to the sheriff. “You had the right of it Lom. You're the smartest man in this room.”

Lom looked a little embarrassed at having been singled out like that. “Oh well, it might have taken you boys a little longer to realize it, but you're on the right track now,” Lom assured him. “All four of you fellas now have the chance to start your lives over again and there ain't nothin' wrong with that—not at any age.”

“Besides Heyes,” Kenny put in. “you haven't lost your daughter. She'll be a part of your life again. All you have to do is make it a life she'll be proud of.”

Heyes grinned over at his friend. “Yeah!” He raised his glass again and gave his partner a slap on the shoulder. “What's all this doom and gloom about? We're here to celebrate. Here's to Kid! He actually beat me to the punch and is gettin' married first!”

“Yeah! Here's to Jed!”

“Congratulations Kid!”

“And here you were afraid of doin' hard time!” Wheat teased him. “Now you're gonna be in fer life!”

“Yeah! But she's real purdy,” Kyle pointed out. “Not too bad doin' life when yer cell mate looks like that!”

“Woo hoo!”

“Here's to ya' Jed!”

“All the best Jed. To you and Beth,” Steven raised his glass.

“Yeah,” Heyes seconded it. “All the best Jed. This is a good thing.”

Kid was grinning from ear to ear—if he had dimples they would be meeting in the middle.

“Thanks fellas,” he responded feeling a little embarrassed with the focus suddenly all on him. “Beth is a real fine lady. I'm just real pleased that she still wants me after all this.”

“More's the pity for us,” the blonde on Jed's lap complained. “You ain't been no fun no how since you got betrothed. Still,” she grinned wickedly. “the night is young!”

“Ho ho, darlin'--you are gonna get me into trouble for sure!”

“C'mon!” Heyes declared. “This is suppose to be a party—let's have some fun!”

Soon the beer was once again flowing like the Colorado River and everybody got to dancing and hollerin' and having a grand old time until the midnight hour came and went. By then, those that could still stand up were settled into sedate conversations and more story-telling. Those that couldn't stand were enjoying the attention of the ladies while seated around the table still laden with refreshment.

Wheat and Kyle got real well acquainted with their two young gals who seemed to think that they were kinda cute, and then surprisingly enough or maybe because of all the beer he'd had to drink, Kyle did finally remember his manners. He actually got around to introducing Wheat to Kenny though it seemed kind of awkward for the ex-con to be mingling with the warden on a level plain like this. Like bumping into your school teacher coming out of the privy.

Discussion on Harris came up between the men and neither Kyle nor Wheat seemed too concerned about the fate that man had met.

David, however was viewing it from the professional's point of view and not having actually met the man in question, felt some concern. “You mean he fell head first from three floors up to land on concrete?” the doctor asked, his scientific brain already making the calculations as to how much damage that would have caused.

“No, he didn't fall,” Kenny corrected him. “he was quite adamantly thrown off.”

“Eww.” David cringed. “The man had some enemies.”

“Harris was a mean son-of-a-bitch,” Wheat announced as he took a swig of beer. “Nobody deserved dyin' as much as he did.”

“Yeah!” Kyle agreed and he and his partner tapped glasses.

Kenny made no comment; it still rankled just a bit that an inmate under his jurisdiction had been singled out and murdered in such a cold and calculated fashion. Although when he thought of the crimes that man had committed, he had to admit to feeling no real sympathy for him. Then his attention was diverted when the sound of a chair leg scraping across the floor and then a loud thumping broke up the conversation.

Everyone looked over to see young Master Charlie sprawled out on the floor with his older brother leaning over him and looking down as though trying to figure out what happened. The lady whom Charlie had been keeping company with was slapping his face in the vain hope of trying to arouse him.

“Oh dear,” Kenny mumbled. “I'm never going to hear the end of this.” He sighed in resignation and put his almost empty glass of beer down on the table. “I suppose it's time I got my boys back to the hotel while I've still got one standing to help with the other.”

“Yeah,” Wheat commented reflectively as he sent a quick glance over towards Heyes and the Kid. “Any of you fellas hanging around much longer?”

“I'll be staying until the guest of honour decides to call it a night—or passes out, whichever comes first,” David announced. “They're spending the night at my place.”

“I'll probably be heading to the hotel pretty soon,” Steven said as he glanced over at a snoring Harry Briscoe sprawled out on a chair. “I suppose it's going to be up to me to get the detective back over to his room as well. Why do you ask?”

“Ah, well—ah....” Wheat snuggled the gal under his arm a little tighter. “Some other plans for this evening have kinda come up, but I wouldn't feel right leavin' Kid here all on his lonesome at his own stag party and all...”

“Oh. Yes.” Steven glanced at the two young ladies, each under an arm and didn't need much imagination to guess what their other plans were. He looked over Kyle's shoulder towards the guest of honour and smiled at the two partners trying to tap their glasses together in yet another toast, but kept on missing and only succeeded in spilling beer on each other. “I don't think you need to concern yourself with that, Mr. Carlson. The evening is probably winding itself down anyways.”

“Ah, yeah.” Wheat nudged his buddy. “C'mon Kyle. Lets say our farewells and get on with the real reason we come into town.”

Kyle's grin grew wider. “Yeah!”

The two men with their escorts approached their ex-bosses just as Heyes was attempting to wipe spilt beer off his cousin's shirt.

“Hey fellas...” Wheat got their attention.

“Haayyy!” Heyes greeted them, his voice a notch higher than usual as is it's want when he's had a few too many. “Ya' havin' a good time!?”

“Yeah, sure Heyes,” Wheat assured. “But, ah listen....me and Kyle, we've kinda had some things come up here, and ah....”

Heyes took one look at the ladies and grinned up at the older man. “Yeeahhh!” Wheat got yet another slap on the shoulder. “Good for you! Go get her! About time somebody was gettin' som'thin'!”

“We'll see ya' later Heyes,” Kyle put in. “You too Kid. It was a real nice party.”

“Aww, thank you Kyle.” Kid started to give him another hug, but Kyle ducked out from under and the Kid would have ended up face first on the floor if Heyes hadn't grabbed him. Unfortunately both men staggered over each other and ended up butt first on the floor instead.

Their friends made a hasty retreat while the getting was good.

“Aww, there they go,” Kid mumbled. “Maybe I should get m'self a gal t'night....there does seem ta' be plenty ta' go aroun'.....”

“Naw...easy there Par'ner...” Heyes tried to help him to his feet but just fell into him again. “You're gonna be beddin' yer own purdy wife here soon 'nough....”

“Yeah...'at's right.” Kid grinned. “She is purdy, ain't she Heyes?”

“Yup. Yu'r a 'ucky man.”

“Yeah, I am, ain't I?”

“Yup. Here I was thinkin' we mi' have a double wed'n,” Heyes reflected sadly. “Guess not tho...”

“Wha' 'bout M'anda?” Kid suggested. “Why don't cha' ask her, 'eyes.”

“Yeah, I could, couldn' I?”

“Yeah!”

“Yeah! We'll 'ave a double wed'n!” He looked up, trying to focus his eyes. “Ahh, 'enny! Ya' goin'?”

Kenny grinned down at the two ex-outlaws who seemed to be quite content to remain seated on the floor. “Yeah, Heyes. Time to call it a night while I can still get my boys back to the hotel in one piece.”

“O'k.”

“Glad you could come...” Kid managed to get out fairly coherently.

“We'll see you later Jed,” Kenny told him. “Have a good night fellas.”

“Ya'---good night.....”

The three Reece men made their exit with the two younger ones looking decidedly pale around the gills. They were still managing to stay on their feet however, as long as they had one another to lean on.

 

The next morning was a slow riser for the men in the Gibson household. David managed to drag himself out of bed by 9:00 a.m. But only because Tricia kept nagging at him. He had rounds to do after all and though it wasn't going to be too busy a day, time was wasting. Nathan thought it was great fun to help his Ma pester his Pa outa bed!

Heyes and Jed would have slept the day away if it wasn't for the galloping feet of the young master Nathan. If he was up then everybody should be up and every time he galloped past the guest room door he'd land a loud slap upon it with his fist and yell 'Time to get up!' If ever two ex-outlaws felt like committing murder, that morning would have been it.

They tried so hard to stay in bed. Bleary eyes staring across the room at one another and then pillows or blankets coming up over heads to drown out the youthful exuberance of the resident doctor in the making. 

Finally Heyes gave up the effort with a groan. “Ohhh, when am I gonna learn not to do that to myself?” he complained to no one in particular. “I feel awful.”

“Stop yellin' Heyes,” Kid moaned. He emitted another loud groan as Nathan ran past the room again and landed another loud thump on the door. “Did I say I wanted to have children?” He covered his head with his pillow and mumbled something to the effect of; “Maybe Beth has a good idea about planning them....spaced out....in about a year or two....yeah....”

Heyes slowly sat up and swung his legs around so he was sitting on the edge of the cot. He just sat there for a few moments looking ragged. He rubbed his eyes and scrubbed his hair and then with a sniff, looked around for his clothes. Kid didn't move.

“C'mon Kid. I think I smell coffee.”

“Hmm.”

“Rise and shine,” Heyes continued, trying to sound enthusiastic. “It's your last day of freedom. Don't want to waste it do ya'?”

“Go away.”

Heyes smiled as he slowly got to his feet and made his way over to the pile of cloth on the floor that looked suspiciously like his clothes. He slowly bent over to pick up his pants and felt his head start to spin. He stopped in mid-bend till the swaying settled and then reached down and picked up his pants. He made his way slowly back to the cot, sat down and began to put one foot and then the other into the pant legs.

“C'mon Kid. May as well get up.”

“Yeah, I suppose.”

Heyes finished pulling on his pants then went back to his pile of clothing and grabbed his socks and his shirt. “I'll go make sure the coffee is on.”

“Huh hum.”

Heyes slowly entered the kitchen, pulling on his shirt as he came and was pleased to discover that the stove was lit and warming the room up nicely, along with keeping the pot of coffee simmering in anticipation. Trich was sitting at the table, apparently wrapping up a parcel but she heard the bedroom door open and smiled up at their guest.

“Good morning, Hannibal.” She greeted him. “Coffee?”

“Oh! Please,” Heyes accepted the offer.

“Where is our groom-to-be?”

“He's coming. I think he got more drunk than I did.”

“Really,” came the sceptical response. “Do you want some breakfast?”

“NO!” He rubbed his temples and smiled, softening his tone. “No, not yet. Thanks.”

Tricia smiled. “David didn't eat much either.”

“Where is David?”

“On his rounds,” Tricia informed him. “He doesn't have much to do today, but still....”

“Oh. Poor man.”

Tricia smiled as she poured him a cup of coffee and put it on the table opposite from where she had been sitting. “Come sit down, have your coffee. You might feel like eating something after you wake up.”

“Hmm.” Heyes nodded and did as instructed.

Then the sound of galloping feet came charging down the hallway and Nathan burst into the kitchen with his toy gun a-blazing! Heyes groaned and held his head.

Tricia took pity on him. “Nathaniel! You either be quiet or go play in your bedroom.”

“Awww!” came the loud complaint. “But Un'ca Han'bul's awake!”

“And he has a headache,” the mother explained patiently. “So if you want to stay and visit with Uncle Hannibal and Uncle Jed then you have to be quiet.”

A sudden light went on in the child's eyes and a wide grin took over his face. “Un'ca Jed!” And the boy turned on his heels and banged into the guest bedroom door. “Un'ca Jed—time to get up!”

Tricia groaned. “Oh dear.”

Heyes started to chuckle quietly to himself, but not too loudly as he tried to get his head to settle down.

Some muffled protesting came from inside the bedroom. “Yeah, yeah. I'm up,” was a barely audible grumbling. 

“C'mon! Coffee!” Nathan was being persistent.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jed repeated. “Just—let me get dressed.”

“O'k!”

“Nathan!” Tricia called him as she stifled a laugh. “Come and sit at the table. And be quiet!” She smiled over at Heyes as she poured another cup. “I'm sure Jed is ready for some coffee as well.”

“Yup, probably.”

Nathan ran out of the bedroom and came over to the table. He smiled at his Un'ca Han and scraped a chair out for himself to climb onto. Heyes cringed. 

Jed could be heard rummaging around in the other room, digging out his pants and shirt and trying to get dressed, then the man himself appeared in the doorway looking bleary and rumpled. He groaned quietly and carefully made his way over to the table.

Tricia smiled at him. “Here you are Jed. Cup of coffee.”

“Ohhh....thank you.”

“Hungry?”

“No!”

“Funny, that's exactly what David said.”

“Hmmm.”

“Oatmeal!” Nathan announced joyfully.

“What?” Jed asked him from under a hand supporting his forehead.

“We had oatmeal for breakfast!”

“Ohhh.” Jed looked over at Tricia. “Does he ever slow down?”

Tricia smiled and shook her head. “Not too often,” she admitted. “Being cooped up through the winter didn't help. I'm sure with the warmer weather here now he'll burn off a lot of that energy playing outside.”

“Hmm.” Jed nodded and he took a tentative sip of coffee. “What's it like out today?'

“It's nice out. I think you and Beth are going to have a lovely day for your wedding,” Tricia predicted. “June is still a bit risky for anything out in the open, but if you're lucky it can be a beautiful time of year for an outdoor celebration.”

Jed nodded. “I sure hope I feel better tomorrow than I do today.”

“You will,” Tricia assured him. “Why do you think the stag party was planned for last night instead of tonight? Can't have you suffering from a hang-over on your wedding day!”

“Is this for Beth?” Heyes asked, indicating the parcel that Tricia had been wrapping.

“Yes,” She conceded. “Miranda and I will be heading out to the Double J this afternoon for the bridal shower. I believe we'll be picking up a number of other ladies along the way. It should be quite the hen house out there today.”

“That's nice,” Heyes responded as he tried to cover up his reaction. The mere mention of Miranda's name had caused his already queasy stomach to do a flip flop. This was awful. He was still very much in mourning over the loss of his relationship with Abi and yet the very thought of seeing Miranda set his palms to sweating. Just what kind of a man was he?

Tricia smiled and placed a gentle hand on Heyes' arm. “Randa is coming over here in an hour or so—if you're interested.”

“Oh.” Obviously he hadn't covered up his feelings very well. “Ahh....” He glanced over at the Kid to see those bleary blue eyes staring at him. “An hour?”

“Yes. About that.”

“Oh.”

Tricia patted his arm and then headed over to the stove again. “I'll put some oatmeal on,” she announced. “You're going to need something to eat.”

Tricia had been right, of course. Once the two cousins had forced a couple of spoonfuls of oatmeal down their throats, their stomachs' decided that they were hungry after all and a heaping helping to each soon disappeared and everyone was in better spirits for it.

Tricia had put on a second pot of coffee and was pouring another round for everyone when a knock came to the front door and then a familiar voice was followed by a familiar face.

“Good morning, everyone!” Randa announced her arrival. “Did we all survive last night's festivities?”

The two men at the table groaned. Nathan jumped down from his chair and ran over to greet the new- comer.

“Aunt Randa! Aunt Randa! Coffee!”

“Yes. Come sit,” Tricia invited her. “I've just made a fresh pot.”

“Oh, yes. Thank you.” Miranda allowed Nathan to take her by the hand and lead her over to the table She glanced over at Heyes and a gentle smile played about her lips. “How is everyone feeling this morning?”

“Better now that we've had something to eat,” Jed informed her.

“Good.” She sat down at the end of the table and accepted the cup that Tricia offered to her. Then Tricia sat down at the head of the table with her own beverage and an awkward silence ensued. Heyes smiled over at Randa and despite having enjoyed numerous conversations with her he was now suddenly finding himself with nothing to say. He tried to ignore the lump in his throat and the tingling in his fingers; it was just the after-effect of too much alcohol, that's all.

Nathan stood beside his aunt looking around at everyone and then his little brow creased.

“Wat's madder?” he asked.

The simple, innocent question seemed to break the mood and everyone smiled and the tension was instantly broken.

“Nothing's the matter,” Tricia assured her son. “It's just a special day today.”

“Why?” came the honest enquiry.

“Your Uncle Jed is getting married tomorrow so there's a lot to be done to get prepared for it,” Tricia informed him.

“Why?”

“Because it's a special day.”

Nathan's little brow creased again. Even he knew that this conversation was going in a circle. Then he brightened up again. “Can I come?”

“Of course you can come,” Jed assured him. “All my friends will be there.”

Nathan smiled at that. “Yeah!” he grinned. “I get married too....!” And then off he went at a full gallop down the hallway and into his own room. What he was planning on doing in there was anyone's guess.

A sigh of relief made its way around the table.

“What a whirlwind,” Heyes mumbled. “No wonder David's so skinny if there's that much energy in his genetics.”

“Yes!” Tricia was emphatic. “He can be a handful alright. David and I have talked about having another one, but....” she shook her head with raised brows. “I don't know if I can handle two like him! Thank goodness my neighbour has agreed to take him this afternoon. Last thing I need at Beth's shower is a little monster running around!”

“Maybe your next one will be a girl,” Jed commented. “And she'll be sweet and gentle....”

“I donno about that,” Heyes mumbled into his coffee cup. “Anya's a girl and she's anything but....” he stopped in mid sentence and didn't carry on with that thought. He pursed his lips and took a drink from his cup to try and cover the lingering distress.

“Yeah, I suppose,” Jed quietly agreed, knowing how much Heyes was still missing his family. “Even girls can be rambunctious.” 

“Yeah,” Heyes mumbled.

“So—Jed! What are your plans for today?” Tricia asked him. “David mentioned that you might be staying here again tonight.”

“Oh—yeah,” Jed responded. “If that's alright. Apparently I'm not suppose to see the bride before the weddin' and all that....I thought it was just the dress, but.....”

“Of course not!” Randa agreed. “That's very bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the ceremony! You must stay here!”

Randa and Tricia exchanged smiles across the table as Heyes and Jed shared a look.

“That's fine,” Tricia assured him. “Is your suit here?”

“Oh no,” Jed admitted, suddenly looking concerned. He hadn't thought about that. “It's still out at the ranch.”

“Don't worry,” Tricia told him. “I'll bring it back with us after the bridal shower.”

“Oh, alright. Thank you.”

“Hannibal?” Tricia turned her attention over to him. “What are your plans for today?”

“Well, as best man; I thought I'd keep the bride-groom company,” Heyes announced with an air of self-importance. “I believe we have plans to meet up with whoever over at the saloon later this afternoon as well. And we have to pick up the rings. Can't forget those!”

“As Best Man, Heyes; that's up to you,” Curry reminded him.

Heyes smiled. “I won't forget.”

“Shall we bring your suit back with us as well?” Tricia smiled at him.

“Oh. If you wouldn't mind.”

“No bother.” She smiled and sent her cousin a knowing look. “Well, I guess I better get on with these dishes.” And she pushed herself away from the table with the intent of doing just that.

Jed glanced over at his cousin and the brown eyes were refusing to meet his. Jed sighed and also pushed himself away from the table. 

“I think I'm gonna go lay down for awhile,” he announced. “I'm still feelin' kinda weary. Not as young as I used to be!”

Heyes followed him with his eyes as he stood up and made his way back to the bedroom. Then he bit his lower lip and took another sip of his now cold coffee.

“Well, I think I'll help Tricia with the dishes,” Randa announced and started to rise from the table.

Heyes' hand shot out and stopped her from getting too far. “Wait,” he said, quietly. “Can we talk?”

Randa settled back down in the chair. Tricia made sure she stayed busy with the dishes.

“If you like,” Randa agreed.

“Shall we walk?”

“Certainly,” she said and then smiled. “It is a lovely day today. And we do seem to have our best talks when we're walking—or riding!”

Heyes smiled and nodded. “Yeah.”

“Tricia. Hannibal and I are just going....”

“That's fine,” Tricia agreed. “Take your time, we still have a couple of hours before we need to head out to the ranch.”

Heyes smiled over at her as he offered his hand to Randa and then he remembered that he didn't have any boots on.

“Oh, just a moment,” he said, almost embarrassed. “Just let me get my boots.”

“Of course.”

Heyes quickly disappeared into the bedroom and Tricia and Miranda exchanged hopeful smiles.

“Everything alright Heyes?” Jed asked from his pron position on the bed.

“Yeah,” Heyes answered quietly. “Just going to take a walk with Randa.”

“Oh. Good.”

“Yeah.”

Heyes quickly grabbed his boots and pulled them on. He glanced over at his cousin again and found those blue eyes staring at him in earnest. Heyes smiled nervously. He had butterflies. Jed smiled back at him.

“Have a good walk, Heyes.”

“Yeah.”

Heyes carried on through the kitchen and joined up with Miranda at the front door. He took down his gunbelt and his coat but Miranda stopped him.

“You won't need your coat today,” she informed him with a hand on his arm. “It's quite pleasant outside.”

“Oh.” Heyes put the coat back, buckled on his belt and opened the door for them to step out onto the porch. He was pleasantly surprised. “You're right!” he agreed with a pleased smile as he felt the warmth of the late morning sun beat down on him. “It's a beautiful day.”

“Yes,” Miranda agreed pointedly. “It is.”

She smiled at him and took his arm and he felt that thrill of excitement go through him as he looked into those dark blue eyes. He tucked her arm into his and they held hands as they walked down the steps together and headed towards the main part of town.

Heyes was quiet for most of the walk; it was one of those rare occurrences in his life when he was at a loss for words. Although he had noticed that it happened more and more often when he was with Miranda. He had no idea how to begin, or even what he really wanted to say. Miranda strolled along beside him, glancing over at him occasionally and giving him time to get his thoughts in order. Finally he fell back and re-grouped on what was relatively an easy topic.

“How is Amy doing?” he asked.

“She's doing much better and is even getting around on her own more these days,” Randa assured him.

“Yes.” Heyes nodded. “I've seen the two of you in town on occasion. She is looking better. Do you think she'll change her mind and come to the wedding after all?”

“No, I don't think so,” Randa admitted. “She still says that she wouldn't be comfortable there, looking around at everyone and wondering if her assailant was amongst the guests. She really was un-nerved by that attack.”

Heyes frowned. “Hmm, that is a shame,” he conceded quietly. “She's surrounded by friends here if she would just take a moment and look around.”

“Yes she is,” Randa agreed and then she smiled slyly. “Like someone else I know and love who still seems to think that the world is against him.”

Heyes went quiet and Randa was afraid that once again she may have gone too far with her unbridled opinions.

“I'm sorry,” she backed off. “I probably shouldn't have said that.”

“No, no,” Heyes smiled at her and squeezed her hand. “You just—always catch me flat-footed and I find myself stuck between denying it or agreeing with you. Hence the silence.”

“Oh.” Randa smiled again. “So what have you decided on?”

Heyes sighed. “You're right,” he admitted. “I've been so pre-occupied licking my wounds that I haven't been paying attention to the people around me who really matter. Take you for instance.”

“Me?” Miranda teased. “You have honoured me with your attention on a number of occasions.”

“Yes,” Heyes agreed. “but not the way you want me to. Oh we're had some nice walks, some nice rides and some very interesting conversations and you've been very patient.”

“You asked me to be your friend Hannibal and I'm more than happy to be that,” Miranda reminded him and smiled. “I do enjoy your company.”

“Yes!” Heyes grinned. “We do have a good time, don't we!?”

“Yes we do,” Miranda agreed.

They approached one of the many park benches that were place strategically around the different grassy knolls that adorned the center of town. Heyes led her over to an unoccupied bench and they sat down. He sighed peacefully, feeling more content than he had in months. A gentle smile played about his lips as he looked around, taking in the easy sunny morning attitude of the town and it's citizens.

A number of the passers-by, especially the ladies smiled over at the couple and hoped that they saw promise there.

Miranda patted his hand. “So...what now?” she asked him.

Heyes' expression turned serious but he continued to gaze off into the middle distance. “I do love you, you know.”

Miranda smiled. “I have had my doubts along those lines,” she admitted. “I feel that we did have something wonderful together but Abi came back into your life and, well. I know she was important to you. I still get the feeling you're not over her yet—that you're still hopeful that perhaps something might change.”

Heyes laughed gently. He squeezed her hand and looked over into her dark blue eyes. “You really are way too perceptive for my own good!” he said teasingly. “But you're right; I have been holding onto a hope—but it's a fool's hope and Abi is no fool.”

“But what if things do change? What if your parole does get lifted say in, five years?” Miranda asked tentatively, afraid of the answer but needing to hear it anyways. “Would you feel trapped with me then, wishing that you were free to find her and try again?”

Heyes sat quietly for a moment, thinking about that possibility.

“No,” he finally said with a subtle shake of his head. “We agreed; one last try to see if it could work and if not, then that would be the end of it. Abi said it was too hard on her, repeatedly coming together and breaking apart. She couldn't spend her life doing that over and over. We needed to let it go and give ourselves the chance to still find happiness in another direction. It's done Miranda; we won't be getting back together again—no matter what.”

“Are you sure about that?” she pushed him.

Heyes laughed out loud. “No!” he admitted, but then he sobered and letting go of her hand he leaned away from her just enough so that he could wrap his arm around her shoulders and hug her to him. “But like I said; it's a fool's hope and given time I'm sure that it too will disappear.”

“Sounds to me like you're a risky proposition,” Randa commented. “Liable to go running off to parts unknown at the smallest provocation.”

Heyes squeezed her shoulders a little tighter. “No,” he assured her. “Once I make up my mind, that will be it.” He sighed deeply. “I suppose I'm just not quite there yet to be willing to accept the way things are. I still need to move slowly.”

“That's fine,” Miranda assured him. “You've never played games with me and I appreciate that. I'm a big girl Hannibal, as long as I know where I stand my own two feet will keep me planted firmly on the ground.”

“Yup!” he nodded with playful conviction. “I definitely do love you.”

“And I love you too,” she told him, laying a hand against his chest. “I'm glad we got that settled.”

“There's one other thing I need to discuss with you,” Heyes finally commented. “You need to know, before we go any further, and I need to know how you feel about this.”

Randa creased her brow. “Sounds serious. I can't imagine how you could possibly have any more secrets, Hannibal. Unless you're going to tell me that you're actually a woman and Jed is your husband and you're both just pretending to be in love with other women!”

Heyes snorted and actually chuckled over that. “No!” he denied adamantly. “Nothing quite so—theatrical!”

“Oh good! Because I really don't think I could live with that.”

“No, nothing like that.” Heyes smiled and kissed her forehead. “Actually you already know about most of it, so no shocks there. It's about Anya.”

“Oh. Yes?”

“Abi has promised to tell her about me when she's old enough to understand,” Heyes explained. “Abi has also arranged through her lawyer that if anything were to happen to her, then full parental rights to Anya would automatically fall to me as her legitimate father.”

“Yes, that makes sense,” Randa concurred.

“Either way; for a visit or to come and live with us,” Heyes pointed out. “she would be my child from another woman coming into our home. I need you to not only accept her presence in our lives, but openly welcome her and embrace her as you would your own child. I want a relationship with Anya, sooner or later. It's important to me. Would you be able to do that, Randa?”

She smiled and looked up at him again, willing her sincerity to shine through. “Of course I would,” she assured him. “Indeed, I would wonder what kind of a man you were if you didn't want your daughter to be a part of our lives. And of course I would love her; how could I not when she is so much a part of you?”

Heyes grinned, his dimples putting in an appearance. Randa's heart skipped a beat.

“Now...” Heyes continued. “one more thing.”

“Oh dear. What now?”

“Well...it's Jed's wedding tomorrow.”

“Yes.”

“I realize that you have been invited and that you will be attending as a guest of the Gibson's.”

Randa creased her brow, wondering where this was going. “Yes,” she agreed tentatively.

“I would appreciate it if you didn't do that.”

Randa felt her throat constrict as hurt took hold. Had she misinterpreted the jist of their discussion? 

“I would appreciate it if you would attend as my guest instead.”

Randa looked at him in shook for an instant, then she laughed and gave him a slap on the knee.

“You rat!” she accused him. “You did that on purpose!”

 

Early afternoon found most of the women folk making their way out to the Double J for Beth's long awaited bridal shower. Tricia and Miranda rented a large carriage with two horses in order to accommodate everyone who would be needing a ride there. First stop was to the hotel where Sarah and Evelyn Reece along with Clementine and Lom's wife Martha were getting acquainted in the hotel lobby while they awaited their ride. 

“Mr. Reece!” Clem joyously greeted the warden. “How very nice to see you again. I hear you fellas had quite the night last night.”

At this comment Sarah sent her husband a slightly teasing, but still reprimanding look. “I'll say they did!” she answered for her husband. “I think my two boys are still up in their room sleeping it off.”

“It wasn't that bad,” Kenny spoke up in his own defence. “Maybe it'll teach them a lesson too.” Then he smiled at Clem. “Nice to see you again as well Miss Hale. May I introduce my wife, Sarah.”

“Hello!” Clementine greeted. “How very nice to finally meet you! The Kid has said nothing but good things about what a kind hostess you are.”

Sarah smiled as she returned the greeting. “Jed is always welcome in our home,” she said. “It'll be so nice to meet his intended. They've had to wait so long for this day.”

“I'll say!” Clem agreed. “They could have gotten married years ago, but that's Kid for you. Stubborn! He just had to insist that Heyes be apart of this. Still, it is kind of nice to have them both together, so...”

“Yes.”

“All of you are ahead of me,” Martha put in. “Though Jed and Beth and of course, you Clementine were at my wedding, I have yet to meet Mr. Heyes.” She sighed and shook her head. “I understand he has quite the presence.”

Kenny smiled. “He does that, ma'am,” he agreed. “For better or for worse, he's not someone you can easily ignore.”

Sarah laughed. “What a thing to say! Is that a compliment or an insult?”

“Right now I'm not too sure,” her husband admitted. “I need to have another talk with him at some point during this visit. I'm afraid he's doing to resent me afterwards, but it's something we need to clear up.”

“Well now why would Heyes be resentful of you?” Clem demanded. “You've done more for him than anybody.”

Kenny shrugged. “We'll see.”

Clem rolled her eyes. “Men! So secretive—all of you!”

“I'll leave you three ladies to continue getting acquainted,” Kenny cut in effectively ending that line of conversation. “I believe some of us 'fellas' are meeting over in the saloon to give Jed one more send off—if he's feeling up to it, that is.”

“Yes, alright dear,” Sarah smiled warmly at her husband and he leaned down and gave her a soft kiss on her cheek.

Then he smiled and gave his daughter a quick hug and kiss as well. “You behave yourself out there young lady,” he reminded her. “It was very nice of Miss Jordan to invite you, so remember you're a lady!”

“Yes, of course Papa!” little Eve rolled her eyes. “I'm not a little girl you know!”

“No, of course you're not,” Kenny teased her then he turned to the adults again. “Miss Hale, I'm sure I'll be seeing you tomorrow.”

“Oh yes! I'll be there.”

“Dear. Have a good afternoon,” he told his wife. “I'll see you later.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “Don't go drinking too much now!”

“Yes dear,” he agreed lovingly and then made his way out the front door of the hotel.

He had to quickly step aside as Miranda hurried through those same doors but in the opposite direction. 

“Oh! Excuse me!” Miranda said, a little bit flustered. “I'm sorry. I'm in a bit of a rush and wasn't watching! You'd think I was fifteen again; I'm in such a tither!”

Kenny smiled and tipped his hat. He had yet to meet Miranda officially but his eyes sparkled and he suppressed a chuckle at the young woman's high energy.

“No problem, ma'am,” he assured her. “Have a good day.”

But by that time, Miranda had already spied the ladies across the way and was heading towards them at a quick walk.

“Hello!” she greeted them with a big smile. “I assume you're heading out with us to the Jordan ranch?”

“Yes!” Clementine greeted her. “Nice to see you again! Heyes take you to any more dances?.”

“No, not yet,” Randa answered with a touch of regret. “Perhaps in time.” She turned to Lom's wife and offered her hand. “Hello! I'm Miranda Thornton. Tricia is outside with the carriage, we're all ready to go!”

“I'm Martha Trevors,” Lom's wife introduced herself. “It's so nice to finally meet you all. I feel like we're family already!”

“It is wonderful isn't it?” Kenny's wife agreed. “I'm Sarah and this is my daughter Evelyn.”

“Well hello miss!” Randa greeted the youngest member of the group. “Is this your first bridal shower?”

“Yes ma'am,” Eve admitted shyly, but determined to be a lady in any case. “I'm so looking forward to it.” She creased her brow then and became quite serious. “I really need to check out Jed's intended. I must make sure that she is good enough for him, you know.”

“Indeed!” Miranda laughed and exchanged humorous glances with the other ladies present. “You are close to Jed are you?”

“Oh yes,” Eve informed her. “We were very serious about one another once upon a time.” She gave an adult lady sigh. “But absence doesn't always make the heart grow fonder and I'm just glad for him that he could move on.”

“Yes, of course,” Randa agreed. “But I'm sure he will be very pleased to see you.”

Eve beamed a huge smile at that and all the ladies then made their way to the front doors and out to the awaiting carriage, bringing their gifts for the bride-to-be along with them.

“Climb aboard everyone!” Tricia instructed them. “We'll make introductions along the way!”

Everyone got settled and the giggling, high energy group headed out of town at a brisk trot. The two horses picked up on the infectious good spirits and began prancing and tossing their heads every step of the way.

The next stop was made at the small home just outside of town to pick up Maribelle, Carol and Sam's mother Merle. Fortunately everyone was ready for them when the carriage arrived so all it took was for the new parcels to be stored in the back and everyone making room for the new-comers to get settled in. Then off they went again at a brisk trot, all of them laughing and chatting and carrying on as if they'd been best friends all their lives.

In no time at all this boisterous group was trotting down the lane that led them to the yard of the Double J. The large pasture to the right of them was fully occupied with Daisy, Buck and two of the other brood mares with their new foals. They all looked up at the noisy arrivals but none of them were interested enough to leave off from their grazing for too long. Ears relaxed and heads went back down to the grass as the group made their way into the yard.

Ellie, Peanut and Pebbles all came bounding and barking off the front porch where they had been stretched out and enjoying the afternoon sun. Fortunately the harness horses didn't bother themselves too much about dogs and just kept right on going to the front porch.

Bridget was the first to come out and welcome the guests. She was all smiles and happy as she ran down the steps to assist with the gifts and the disembarking.

“Hello everyone!” she greeted them as Sam came over to tend to the horses. “C'mon inside! Momma's got lemonade and sandwiches on the go!”

“Wonderful!” Merle commented from the back seat. “I think we could all do with something cool to drink!”

Everyone disembarked and headed in to the coolness of the house while all three dogs decided to escort the team of horses over to the barn. With Sam's help of course.

“Hello! Welcome,” Belle greeted her guests. “How wonderful you could all make it out.”

“Hello Belle!”

Everyone there who were already acquainted with their hostess came forward to give her a hug and a kiss and then introductions followed for the one's who were new to this gathering.

Belle smiled even more graciously as she was introduced to Sarah Reece and the two women gave each other heart-felt hugs.

“The boys speak so highly of you—and of your husband,” Belle told her. “We owe Kenny so much for all the support he gave to Joshua while he was in prison. I am very much looking forward to meeting him so that I can thank him in person.”

“Thank you,” Sarah smiled with pride. “Kenny is looking forward to meeting you as well, Mrs. Jordan. You mean so much to both Jed and Hannibal.”

“And they mean a lot to us,” Belle agreed, then she smiled down at the little beauty standing beside her mother. “You must be Evelyn. Thaddeus as spoken fondly of you too.”

“Thank you ma'am,” Evelyn giggled and blushed and then tucked her face in behind her mother's skirts.

“No need to be shy,” Belle assured her. “Come, have some lemonade.”

“Oh yes! Thank you!”

“And please, call me Belle. All of you,” the hostess insisted. “I already feel as though we are all family here.”

The group came into the living room and everyone settled into appropriate chairs while Merle joined Belle and Bridget in the kitchen in order to bring out and offer up refreshments. Sandwiches and little desserts were already spread out enticingly upon the large dinning room table and soon all felt at home enough to help themselves.

Beth came downstairs to greet her guests and right behind her came J.J! Beth was actually looking a little put upon that her young brother was insisting on joining in on the party.

“I tried to explain to him that this was just for the ladies, but he refused to listen,” she told the group by way of explanation. “Whenever food is involved, he'll find a way.”

The ladies laughed. 

“As long as you're here I may as well introduce you,” Beth told him.

“No!” Jay didn't seem too interested in meeting a bunch of ladies. “Sandwiches!”

“J.J., where are your manners?” Belle reminded him as she entered the room with a pitcher. “If you insist on being here then be polite to our guests.”

All eyes were turned towards the young man and suddenly J.J. was feeling quite shy and not so sure that sandwiches were worth all this feminine attention. He eyed the tasty offerings on the table, glanced at his mother and then looked over the group of females again. He considered his options. Suddenly the choice was made for him.

“Hi! I'm Evelyn,” Eve spoke up out of the blue.

J.J. grinned, noticing for the first time that there was someone here who, though older than him was at least not an adult. “Hi!” he greeted her quite enthusiastically. “I'm J.J. You want to play?”

Evelyn looked up at her mother for permission.

“Go ahead,” she nodded with a smile. “But please; try not to get too dirty!”

In an instant the two youngsters were gone and out the front door. No stuffy parties for them!

Most of the adults gave a sigh of relief. Evelyn will be forever honoured for getting J.J. out from under foot!

“Beth!” Sarah greeted the young woman. “What a pleasure to finally meet you. Jed speaks of you so highly.”

“Oh, yes ma'am,” Beth beamed. “Thank you.”

“Oh please! My name is Sarah,” the older woman insisted. “My husband has told me of all the things you accomplished. You really are a remarkable young woman. I'm so pleased that you and Jed are finally going to have your day.”

Both Beth and Belle smiled with pleasure with the compliment. “Thank you,” Beth said again, feeling a little embarrassed. “We have waited a long time for this. I can hardly believe that it is finally here.”

“Well it is certainly here, young lady,” Belle told her. “You've done very well to be so patient.”

Bridget and Clem exchanged looks and rolled their eyes. This was getting a little sickly sweet for them.

Soon sandwiches were being eaten and tea with dainty little pastries were passed around until everyone was stuffed and contented. Belle was finally beginning to feel like she could relax now that most of the preparations were done for the next day. Even the yard and the house had been decorated with ribbon and spring flowers and all that was left was to pray that it didn't rain over night!

Soon the gifts were being pulled out from various hiding places and everyone settled into the sitting room to sip tea and rejoice with the new bride in opening her presents. Beth was embarrassed at the riches and kept muttering that people really hadn't needed to do this. It was so kind of everyone. She was boo hoed and simply told to get on with it! Everyone wanted to see what she got.

So, without any further ado Bridget picked up one of the parcels and handed it into her sister's lap.

“C'mon, get started,” she pushed. “We don't have ALL afternoon, you know!”

Beth smiled self-consciously but did start to open the present. “Oh my!” she exclaimed along with the oo's and ahh's from the other ladies attending. “This is lovely,” she breathed as she lifted up a finely embroidered table cloth with matching napkins. “Oh Tricia! Thank you. Whenever did you find the time?”

“Nathan still goes to bed quite early,” Tricia assured her. “I started it as soon as you and Jed were betrothed and did a little every night. I'm going to be at a loss as to how to fill my evenings now!”

“I doubt you'll have too long to wait before you'll be embroidering baby bibs!” Merle commented. “I suggest you get started now!”

Everyone laughed and Beth smiled shyly. She lovingly caressed the linen, then folded it and returned it to its box. Before she had time to think another gift was handed to her. This one was from Sarah and Kenny and Beth was almost speechless with the generosity shown her from people she hardly knew. More complimentary noises made the rounds as she lifted up a pair of silver candle sticks, each with beautiful but subtle engravings decorating the sticks themselves and on each base, the memento; 'Jed and Beth on the occasion of their marriage; June 1891'. 

“Oh my!” Beth exclaimed as she gazed at them with misting eyes and then looked over to Sarah. “Thank you so much. They're beautiful!”

Sarah smiled with the pleasure of giving an appreciated gift. “You're very welcome my dear,” she said. “My husband was very impressed with your courage and your tenacity. You were a dear friend to two men who needed friends during a difficult time in their lives. Jed and Hannibal are very fortunate to have your love.”

Beth actually sniffed as she caressed the candlesticks. “Bridget and Clem helped too,” she pointed out in a small voice.

“Well of course we did!” Clem piped up. “but neither of us went undercover into the prison itself!”

“And this is your day,” Bridget reasoned as she stood up and gave her sister a hug.

“They're so beautiful,” Carol commented, a little envious of her friend. “I hope I get something as nice as that when I get married.”

“Don't you worry about that,” Maribelle chided her. “You have plenty of time! Right now it's an honour for you that Beth asked you to be her flower girl”

Carol smiled with true pleasure. “Yes I know! It'll be such fun! I've never done anything like that before. Just wait until I tell everyone at the orphanage about it!”

“I'm pleased you accepted,” Beth told her friend. “It will be fun!”.

“Here!” Carol picked up another present and handed it to the lady of honour. “Open ours next!”

“Oh! Yes, alright.” Beth was still sniffing and wiping away a tear but she took the pro-offered gift and dutifully unwrapped it. Once again she was stopped in her tracks as she viewed a lovely set of china tea cups with matching saucers. Tucked into the side were four little silver tea spoons. “Oh my! What a lovely china set. Thank you so much. I can't believe how generous everyone is being!”

As it turned out, Merle's gift was the tea pot in the same rose pattern design as the cups and along with it came the matching set of a sugar bowl and small milk jug. Just the perfect gift for a young married lady to have for friends coming to visit.

Martha placed the gift from herself and Lom on the young lady's lap next and Beth smiled a thank you at her. She remembered this fine woman from when she and Jed had attended her and Lom's wedding of not too long ago and had instantly felt a liking for her. It made Lom a little easier for her to take after that since she had always felt a little intimidated by the ex-outlaw turned sheriff. But once Beth had met the lawman's wife then suddenly he didn't seem quite so threatening anymore.

“I hope you like this,” Martha beseeched. “We haven't had the chance to get to know one another very well as of yet so sometimes it makes it difficult to chose a nice gift. And men are so hopeless at it!”

Everybody laughed and nodded agreement.

“I'm sure I'll like it,” Beth responded and began the task of unwrapping the parcel. When she opened the box her eyes lit up with pleasure and the smile on her face became truly radiant. “It's beautiful!” She exclaimed with an intake of breath.

“What?” asked Clem, straining over to look. “What is it?”

Beth held up a crystal platter that was covered with a frosted raised design of vines and fruit intricately engraved across it's surface. Everyone was impressed.

“That is very nice.” Belle agreed. “You treasure that piece Beth. It'll serve you well.”

“Oh I will,” Beth assured her mother and smiled over at Martha again. “Thank you very much. Everything is just so wonderful!”

Beth barely had time to thank her friends for these lovely gifts before Clementine pushed her parcel onto the reciprocating lap and sat back awaiting acknowledgement. Beth sent her a suspicious smile as she picked up the small box and opened it. She creased her brow in confusion as she gazed down at the rather large silver ring that sat nestled in some cotton inside the box. She traced her finger along the intricately engraved design that ran all the way around the ring and then shook her head.

“But what is it?” she asked glancing up at her friend. “Is it a napkin holder?”

“A napkin holder!?” Clem laughed. “I suppose that's one term for it!”

Belle leaned forward and took a look at the gift, then she sat back with a smile and sent Clementine a reprimanding, but teasing look.

“What is it Mama?” Beth asked, quite confused now.

“Well, it's for your wedding night,” Belle explained.

“My wedding night?”

“Yes,” Belle smiled even more. “Thaddeus would put it on his.....” Then she leaned forward and whispered in Beth's ear the rest of what Thaddeus would do.

Beth's eyes popped and her mouth gaped. She turned a bright red as her hand came up to cover her aghast laughter and everyone else broke up laughing as well!

“Clementine!”

“Well it can't ALL be about the man!” Clem insisted. “Us girls gotta have some fun!”

“Oh my!” Merle exclaimed. “I wish I had one of those back in the day!”

“What is it Grandma?” Carol asked quite innocently.

“It's just a toy,” Grandma explained with a smile. “for married people.”

“Oh. So I'll get one too, when I get married?”

“If you're lucky,” Grandma commented dryly.

“Mother!” Maribelle reprimanded her mother-in-law.

Merle shrugged innocently. “What?”

Miranda laughed along with all the others. “Clementine, if I ever get married again, you are already invited to the shower!” Then smiled broadly. “Even if I don't get married again—I do have a birthday coming up!”

All the ladies 'tut tutted' but laughed along with the rather risque comment and those who knew Miranda well, just rolled their eyes. These 'modern' ladies certainly did not hold back! 

More chuckles made the rounds and Beth discreetly packed the toy away for future use. She sent a sneaky smile over to her unflappable friend.

“Thank you Clementine.”

“You're welcome sweetie. Let me know how it goes.”

Miranda was next though she felt a tad trepidatious about trying to follow the gift from Clementine. Her's was hardly going to have the same impact. Still, she smiled and presented it and Beth was pleased to accept.

Beth opened the box, almost afraid of what it might be but then smiled with pleasure when she was met with an elegant white porcelain vase with a relief pattern of a floral and leaf design wrapping its way around the bowl and stem.

“Oh my,” Beth breathed in admiration. “That's so lovely. This will look beautiful on a mantel. Thank you so much. Everyone is being so generous.”

“You only get married once in your life—or so they tell me!” Clem commented. “Appreciate it while you can!”

“Here Beth, open mine next!” Bridget pushed a flat box onto her sister's lap. “I made it myself—well, with Momma's help!”

“Really?” Beth queried. “Thank you!”

“You haven't even opened it yet!”

“Yes, but you made it yourself! I already know I'm going to like it.”

Bridget smiled and then motioned at her sister. “Well, go on! Open it!”

Beth opened the lid of the box and gasped in awe! She reached in and daintily held up a full-length silky and slinky neglige! She stood up to let the garment fall it's full length and everyone admired the craftsmanship and the suggestive sheerness of it. Beth smiled with true pleasure, taking note of the embroidery and lovely pearls sown into the low cut neck line and around the hem. She also noted that the sides of the garment were also open and embroidered from under the arm all the way to the floor, leaving nothing much to the imagination.

Beth was speechless. This enticing apparel must have taken her sister ages to create, especially when she had her own little one at home to tend to as well. It was beautiful and Beth knew that she would treasure it long past the wedding night. She was once again close to tears as she gave her sister a big hug and thanked her most sincerely.

The sleek gown made its way around the room with everyone admiring the workmanship and the love that had gone into its creation. Bridget beamed with pleasure that her risque gift was appreciated by everyone.

There was one more gift left to be opened. Belle picked it up off the table and handed it to her youngest daughter with pride in her eyes and a mother's love on her lips.

Beth accepted the small box as she met her mother's eyes and she knew what a lucky young lady she was. She was almost afraid to open this gift from her mother. She didn't really know why, but her hand was shaking just a little as she lifted the lid and gently pulled away the cotton covering. Then just as she had feared, her throat tightened up and she felt the tears coming again.

“Oh Mama. This is grandma's brooch isn't it?”

“Yes,” Belle conceded. “That brooch comes all the way from England. Your great-grandmother gave it to your grandmother just before she and her new husband sailed to the new world. Then your grandmother gave it to me upon the day of my marriage to your father and now I am giving it to you. Cherish it Beth. Hold it and wear it and keep it safe. It represents the maternal lineage of our family and has great value of both monetary and sentimental. Then, when you are fortunate enough to have your own daughters, or grand daughters you can pass it on to them and keep the line going.”

“Oh Mama! Thank you!” And Beth turned and gave her mother a heartfelt hug and everyone in the room thought for sure they were going to cry. “I promise! I'll cherish it and keep it safe.”

“Congratulations sweetheart. I am so proud of you.”

Then everyone started to laugh as the wrapping paper and ribbon that was laying about the floor suddenly bounced and jumped and was scattered to the far corners as Mouse decided it was time to liven up the party.

While the young cat entertained the guests, Belle made a discreet exit to the kitchen to make more tea and bring out more pastries. Soon, everyone, including Mouse had settled in to contented nibbling and relaxed chatting until it was going to be time to head for home. 

“So Beth,” Miranda asked, after the gifts had all been admired and put aside. “did you have a dress made for your big day?”

“Oh, no,” Beth answered and then smiled at her mother. “I'm going to wear Mama's dress. Bridget wore it for her wedding and we all thought it would be nice to carry on the tradition.”

“Yes,” said Belle. “It's fortunate that both my girls fit into that dress and even nicer that they both wanted to wear it!”

“It's a lovely dress Mama!” Bridget assured her. “Why would we not want to!?”

“Well,” Belle smiled softly. “sometimes a young bride wants her own dress.”

“Oh no!” Beth piped in. “It's too nice a dress to just keep stored away and not wear it! I'm so looking forward to putting it on for real!”

“You have to do something different though!” Clementine insisted. “You can't have your wedding be exactly the same as your sisters!”

“No, it won't be!” Beth assured her. “Bridget had yellow flowers for her bouquet but I'm going to have a mixture of spring flowers—like the ones used to decorate the yard. And of course; Joshua is going to be here for my wedding.”

“Oh of course! Rub it in!” Bridget complained. “I was willing to wait for him as well, but he insisted that we not!” Then she smiled lovingly. “Now of course, I'm glad we didn't wait because if we had, little Rosie wouldn't be here and she is such a dear.”

“And that's all I would have needed!” Belle exclaimed with a heavy sigh. “Both of you getting married at the same time! You would have been fighting over the dress!”

“No we wouldn't have!” Bridget insisted. “As the oldest, I would have had first choice.”

“That's hardly fair!” Beth complained. “You always use that as as excuse! Being the oldest doesn't mean you can get everything!”

“So far is has.”

“Oh well I.....!”

“Girls! Girls!” Belle laughed. “you're fighting over a hypothesis! Fortunately the dress was available for both of you.”

The sisters both smiled and then giggled over the silliness of their argument.

“Where is your daughter?” Sarah asked. “I'd love to meet her.”

“She's napping right now,” Bridget told her. “But I'm sure she'll be up before you leave. And there's always tomorrow! I'm sure she won't be sleeping through all that excitement.”

“No, probably not,” Merle agreed. “It'll be quit a day!”

“And quite a night too, I'm sure,” Clementine commented with a wicked glint in her eye.

“Clementine—really!!” Trich reprimanded her but giggling all the same.

Everyone in the room laughed and Beth blushed but also smiled.

“Don't be afraid of your wedding night!” Randa advised the bride-to-be. “It can be very exciting.”

“Oh yes,” Merle nodded her sage head wisely. “The worse thing you can do is freeze up.” She smiled and gave Beth a reassuring pat on the knee. “But I'm sure your mother and sister have told you what to expect.”

“Yes...I....I think I do have some idea,” Beth commented quietly and sent a side-long glance over to her mother who of course was privy to her little secret. “I'm sure Jed will be very gentle. I'm not afraid.”

This was met by feminine corkles around the sitting room.

“Don't count on gentleness my dear!” Merle added her two bits worth again. “Not after he's had to wait this long! And didn't you say he promised not to go near the brothels?”

“Yes he did,” Beth assured her with pride and then looked around in some shock as the assembly broke out laughing and nodded knowingly at their companions. “What?”

“Oh don't let them chide you Beth,” Tricia comforted her. “I'm sure Jed waited. But then,” she and Miranda exchanged a laughing look. “all the more reason not to expect him to be gentle!”

“Why wouldn't he be gentle?” Beth was rather incensed. “He was the last.....I mean, he's always been very gentle with me.”

Fortunately for her, her little slip up slipped by un-noticed as the other ladies were having too much fun. Belle sat back quietly with a knowing smile on her face while watching her youngest daughter scrambling to defend her betrothed's honour—and her own.

“That's fine Beth,” Sarah smiled and took some tea. “When you truly love someone then there is no reason to be afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” Beth asked the group in general, then turned to her sister. “You tell them! You really enjoyed your wedding night—didn't you?”

“Yes of course!” Bridget assured her sister and she smiled with the heavenly remembrance of it. “I mean—of course it was a bit shocking,” a number of collaborating head nods. “but it was still...well. Really Mama! You didn't tell me everything!”

Belle raised her brows in mock self-defence. “I didn't want to ruin the adventure for you. The first time is always special and exciting when you're with the right man. And I have no doubt in my mind that both of my girls have chosen the right man.”

“Oh well said, Belle!” Merle congratulated her friend. “Nothing like a bit of mystery for the newlyweds!”

“Oh really now!” Beth argued. “How much mystery can there be? I mean...there's only so many things a man can.....” She shut her mouth and blushed again. “I mean really.”

All the ladies laughed. Carol looked confused. 

“You'll see.” Bridget teased her sister. “There are so many different positions—some you wouldn't think possible....until you get into it that is.”

“Bridget!” Beth was incensed. “How can you talk that way!?”

“What?” Bridget shrugged. “It's common knowledge.” She smiled at her sister, snatching the opportunity to needle her. “Well, to most of us here!”

“Well, I've....” Then Beth shut down again, so tempted to give away her little secret but not wanting to at the same time. “Mama has told me what to expect.”

“Well, as I said; not everything,” Belle corrected her. 

“And with a man like Mr. Curry,” Merle added her opinion. “Oh my! If I were thirty years younger you'd be having a run for your money my dear!”

“Merle, really!” Sarah chided her, but everyone laughed.

“I can certainly understand her sentiment,” Miranda supported the older lady. “Jed is a fine specimen of the male animal!”

“Exactly!” Merle defended herself. “You can bet he's been around the bed post a few times. He's going to introduce you to a whole new world my dear!”

“You have been suspiciously quiet through all of this Clem,” Bridget pointed out. “Do you know more about Jed than you're willing to let on?”

“What!?” Clementine was jolted out of her revelry. “Why whatever do you mean?”

All of a sudden all the ladies in the group were laughing and pointing fingers at Clem as she tried very hard to look innocent and insulted.

“They are just my friends! Nothing more!” she insisted. “How could you even think such a thing?”

“Oh, I don't know,” Tricia teased. “Wasn't it your place Jed ran to when Jesse kicked him off the ranch?”

“Well yes,” Clem admitted self-righteously. “but that's because WE'RE FRIENDS! He had no where else to go!”

“Yes. He went running straight into your arms,” Tricia continued. “and perhaps—straight into your bed?”

“Well I never...!!” Clem blustered but she also started to blush guiltily.

Everyone had a good laugh then, even Beth until Clem finally accepted the inevitable and stopped trying to deny everything. She just shut her mouth and took on a haughty demeanour.

“That's just fine,” she eventually conceded. “You all think whatever you want—but a lady never tells!” 

That sent the whole room into an uproar and everyone laughed until they hurt and even Clem started to chuckle a little bit too with the teasing. She reached over and gave Beth a touch on the knee.

“Don't you listen to a word they say,” she advised her young friend. “Jed loves you and that's all you need to worry about.”

“Yes, I know,” Beth agreed. “I'm also well aware that I'm hardly Jed's first romance—just so long as from now on, I'm his one and only!”

“I'm sure you are,” Merle smiled at the young woman. “You can always tell when a man's in love and I'd say that Jed cares about you very much Beth. That much is obvious.”

Beth beamed. “Thank you.”

“You're going to have a wonderful day tomorrow, sweetheart,” Belle promised her daughter. “And whatever I haven't told you about the wedding night, I have no doubt that Jed will have no qualms about filling in the blanks.”

“Oh Mama! Really!” Beth looked insulted, quite confident that her one romantic interlope with Jed was all the introduction she needed to know what went on between a man and a woman behind closed doors—or in wide open fields! Little did she know what other joyous pleasures Jed had up his sleeves, or down his pants for that matter. She was certain she knew it all.

Belle and Bridget exchanged smiles over the head of the soon to-be-bride while the other ladies in the group sipped their tea and raised their brows at one another.

“It's going to be an interesting day for Miranda too,” Tricia quietly commented with a sly smile over to her cousin.

Miranda's eyes popped wide as she returned the look. “Tricia!”

“What?” asked Clementine, relieved that the heat was being directed away from her. “What's going on?”

“Hannibal took her out for a walk this morning,” Tricia informed the interested group. “They both appeared quite pleased upon their return.”

“Oh Tricia, really!” Miranda complained, but still couldn't help a smile. “You're jumping the gun!”

“What?”

“What did he say?”

“What happened?”

“Nothing happened.” Randa smiled.

“Aww, c'mon!”

“Don't keep us in suspense!”

“What did he say?”

“I'll tell them if you don't,” Tricia threatened. “You know I will.”

Randa's smile deepened and her shoulders slumped in resignation, but her eyes sparkled with exited pleasure. “He asked me to be his guest tomorrow,” she said. “That we would come as a couple.”

A joyous cheer went up among the younger ladies in the group while the older ones smiled at the news.

“That's wonderful,” Belle was pleased. “I know he has been awfully down since.....well, he's been down and he deserves to have something good in his life again.”

“Well, it's nothing too serious,” Randa cautioned everyone. “He's still struggling, but I think he knows what he wants in life now and we just have to give him the time he needs to get through this last disappointment.”

Belle sighed. “Dear Joshua! He has had a rather hard time of it. Just when we all thought things were coming together for them...oh well.” She smiled. “And that little Becky! What a whirlwind!” She and Beth exchanged looks then and they both laughed. “So much her father's daughter! I hope you get the chance to meet her one day, Miranda. She really is a dear.”

“Yes,” Miranda nodded. “I hope I get the chance as well. Who knows.”

“Well!” Belle prepared to stand up. “Would everyone like some more tea?”

“Oh yes!”

“More tea would be lovely!”

“Let me come and help you,” Merle offered.

And so the gathering continued on until it was time to head back to town. Most of the ladies settled back into the carriage and with boisterous waves and farewell's and promises of returning the next day, the horses leaned into their harnesses and headed for home.

Bridget and Clementine stayed at the ranch for the night in order to help with the last minute preparations. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day for all and there was going to be much to do.

 

To Be Continued


	17. The Big Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trials and tribulations of the long awaited wedding day.

THE WEDDING DAY

 

Late morning of May 31st. In town.

Kenny smiled to himself as he turned left outside the hotel and headed towards the saloon. This town was certainly full of some very interesting people. He spied the young woman impatiently holding the team of horses and sent her a quick wave, assuming correctly that she was also part of the party group. Tricia smiled back and nodded a greeting in return but was quick to return her attention to the hotel doors in anticipation of the group getting a move on!

Kenny carried on, not too sure how much drinking everyone intended to do this afternoon. He himself had quite enough the night before so hopefully things would stay a moderate. It would not be good for the whole male contingency to show up with hangovers the next day.

His inner smile deepened a little when he spied Harry Briscoe chatting to a young lady just outside the saloon doors. He still didn't quite know what to make of that man. Forever in his suit and fedora he tried very hard to be the sophisticated and accomplished detective but he always seemed to be fumbling over his own feet. Yet there was still something likable about him once you got used to his ways and he could understand why Jed and Heyes kept him around.

“Harry,” Kenny nodded a greeting as he passed them. “Ma'am.”

“Oh! Yes, good afternoon Warden!” Harry responded with an air of self-importance and Kenny wondered at the use of his official title on this celebratory occasion. “The boys are already in there and I will join you shortly.”

“Take your time.”

Kenny stepped into the saloon and took a moment to survey the common area. Movement caught his eye and he spied Jed over at one of the larger tables and sent him a wave. Another quick look told him that Heyes was also there along with Lom. Steven and David were yet to show. Goodness knew what Wheat and Kyle were up to that afternoon and only time would tell if they showed for this. Kenny acknowledged Jed's summons and headed over to join them.

 

Harry had decided to take a quick walk around town that morning just to try and clear his head. He didn't have a hangover as such; falling asleep had prevented him from drinking quite as much as the other party-goers but he still woke up feeling fuzzy and a little head-achy. A light breakfast, some strong coffee and a walk on this fine Spring morning was all he would need to clear things up and be his usual sharp self again.

At the appropriate time he made his way towards the saloon and prepared himself to continue on with the festivities. He was in good spirits and trotted up the steps towards the bat-wing doors with a smile on his face and a whistle on his lips.

Then quite unexpectedly someone bumped into him and he very nearly tripped on the last step before the boardwalk. He turned, all prepared to give the clumsy person a piece of his mind when he found himself staring into the pretties set of eyes he had seen in a long time. The young lady smiled graciously and batted her lashes at him.

“I'm so sorry,” she sweetly apologized. “How silly of me. Are you alright?”

Harry puffed up and tipped his hat to her. “No need to apologized ma'am,” he smiled at her. “Being a detective I'm quite accustomed to dealing with the unexpected!”

She raised her eyebrows with impressed surprise. “You're a detective! How exciting!”

“Yes ma'am!” Harry stood up straighter. “Harry Briscoe, Bannerman man—at your service!”

“Oh my!” she gushed and Harry felt his heart flip. “A real detective! I'm honoured.”

“Not as honoured as I am,” Harry insisted and he raised her pretty hand to give it a light kiss.

She giggled sweetly. “Very nice to meet you, Mr. Briscoe. I'm Miss Isabelle Baird.”

“Miss Baird. A pleasure.” And Harry certainly meant it.

“Oh you can call me Isabelle!” And she playfully patted his arm.

Harry felt his knees go weak. “Why, thank you Miss Isabelle. Harry.”

“Harry,” She repeated with a coy smile. “Are you here for the wedding tomorrow?”

“Yes ma'am.” Harry beamed with pride. “Why I've known Jed Curry for many years! Heyes too.” He leaned in with a conspiratory smile. “They have often helped out on cases for me. Very undercover you understand.”

“Oh! How exciting!” Isabelle but a hand to her chest in mock consternation. “You must lead a very dangerous life!”

“Oh yes! It can be that,” Harry agreed. “But once you've been in the field as long as I have, you get to where you can just sense when danger is around. I'm quite capable of handling myself in a pinch, don't you worry your pretty little head about that!”

“Oh my. I'm afraid I would worry though,” she admitted with a slight flutter. “It must be very hard on your wife, knowing that your job can be so dangerous.”

“Oh, I'm not married ma'am.”

Isabelle brightened up. “No? A fine catch of a man like yourself is not married?”

Harry smiled, he had a good feeling about this. “No ma'am. I've just never had the time. Very busy and on the road a lot you know.”

“Oh.” Slight hint of disappointment.

“Oh, but I've been thinking lately of making some changes about that,” Harry was quick to assure her. “I've been thinking it's about time I settled down and thought about the more domesticated aspects of life. Not getting any younger you know!”

“Yes, I know what you mean,” Isabelle commented dryly. She quickly got back into character and sighed deeply. “I'm afraid the choice of available men in this town is quite limited. I may have to expand my search if I don't want to become an old maid.”

“Oh ma'am, I just can't picture you as an old maid,” Harry correctly contradicted her.

Isabelle smiled at him, quite conscious of the fact that Harry had yet to release her hand. “No,” she agreed. “Perhaps not.”

“Will you be attending the wedding tomorrow, Miss Isabelle?”

“Oh no.” Isabelle sighed dramatically. “Unfortunately I have a prior commitment. Although I know Jed and Beth were quite disappointed when I had to decline.”

“Oh.” Harry looked truly disappointed. “That is a shame. Are you sure you can't re-arrange your schedule? I would be greatly honoured if you would come as my guest.”

“OH!” Isabelle quickly composed herself and smiled sweetly. “Well, for you—I'll see what I can do.”

“That would be wonderful!” Harry smiled at her. “I will wait for your answer.”

“And I'll be sure to let you know.” Isabelle finally slipped her hand away from the gentleman. “For now I'm afraid I must be off.” She smiled sweetly at him again and Harry's heart did a double flip. “I do believe this meeting was quite fortuitous.”

Harry grinned. “I hope to hear from you this evening.”

“Good afternoon Harry.” Isabelle beamed at him and did a subtle courtesy. “Until this evening.”

 

Harry approached the group at the table, looking very pleased with himself.

“Hey Harry,” Kid greeted him. “You look like you just solved the case of the decade.”

“Yeah Harry,” Heyes seconded the opinion. “What have you been up to?”

“I just bumped into the most charming young woman,” Harry announced as he sat down and ordered a beer from the hovering Suzie. “I hope you don't mind Kid, but I invited her to come as my guest tomorrow.”

Heyes and Jed exchanged a look.

“Was this charming woman named Isabelle, by any chance?” Kid asked him.

“Yes! You know her?”

Heyes and Jed both chuckled.

“Yeah, we know her Harry,” Heyes admitted. “She just accidentally bumped into you, right?”

“Yeah!”

Two more exchanged looks. Kid raised his mug of beer to the detective.

“Congratulations Harry,” he offered. “Go for it! I'll warn....ha, I mean inform Beth that Isabelle will be attending after all.”

“Hi fellas! How's everybody feeling this afternoon?”

“Hey Steven!”

“Afternoon Steven, find yourself a seat.”

Suzie returned with Harry's beer and took Steven's order. She smiled sweetly but groaned inwardly. She had a headache herself and just wished all these fellas would show up at the same time instead of making her run back and forth, one beer after another. Knowing her luck by the time all of them had arrived and ordered, the first one would be ready for his second round!

Sure enough, by the time David arrived Heyes and Jed were ordering again and she had a feeling that the group wasn't at it's full potential yet! Oh damn! Those late night bachelor parties were going to be the ruin of her yet!

Three beers were brought to the table for David, Heyes and Jed just as Lom came over and sat down to a chorus of greetings. Suzie tried real hard not to show her disappointment.

“Ya' want a beer?” she asked the lawman.

“Ah no, I don't think so,” Lom answered her. “I think I'll just stay with coffee this afternoon.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Kenny seconded. “I think I'll have a coffee too.”

“Two coffee's?” Suzie ran her eyes around the group. “Anyone else for coffee?”

She was met by numerous head shakes so she set off back to the bar to get some coffee brewing. She'd probably have a cup of that herself once there was a break in the traffic—oh! But oh damn! Here come those two saddle-tramps and they looked like beer drinkin' fellas.

“Hey, Wheat, Kyle!” Heyes greeted them. “Finally dragged yourselves outa bed huh? You want beer or coffee?”

“Oh well ah...I'll have a beer,” Wheat answered him. “What about you Kyle?”

“Yeah! Beer sounds real good!”

“You boys had any breakfast yet?” Jed asked with some concern.

“Well we ain't been to bed yet,” Wheat informed him. “What do we need breakfast for?”

“That ain't entirely true Wheat!” Kyle reminded him.

“Oh well yeah...” Wheat shifted a little. “We've been ta' bed,” he grinned and the two partners elbowed each other playfully. “we just ain't been asleep!”

“Yeah!” Kyle chortled. “There's some real energetic ladies workin' this town that's fer sure!”

Suzie put in an appearance, trying so hard not to let her headache show through her mask. “You boys want beers?” she asked the newcomers.

“Yeah!”

 

Early morning of The Big Day. Gibson household.

 

As predicted, the next morning dawned sunny and bright. There was still a bit of a early chill in the air but that was typical for this time of year. By 11:00 the sun should have warmed the day up just enough to be pleasant and by 1:00, the time of the wedding it should be the perfect day for outdoor nuptials.

“Any more of that bacon?” Jed asked hopefully as he polished off the last of the pancakes on his plate.

Tricia smiled knowingly. “Yes, I made sure to make lots,” she told him as she stood up and pulled out a plate of bacon from where it had been keeping warm inside the stove. “I wasn't lulled into thinking that your appetite would be daunted just because of a little think like your wedding day.”

Jed grinned. “You married a real smart lady there David.”

“Don't I know it!” David agreed. “Of course the fact that she keeps reminding me....” 

“Ha!” Tricia teased him, then raised the plate of bacon with an enquiring raise to her brows.

“No,” David declined. “I'm fine.”

“Hannibal?” she asked their other guest.

“Oh no.” Heyes sat back and patted his slightly increased tummy. “That's it for me. I think I'm the one suffering from butterflies this morning.”

“All the more for me!” Jed quipped as he helped himself to a number of rashers more. 

“How about you young man?” Tricia asked her son. “Any more....?”

“YES PLEASE!” came back the adamant response as the young master of the house raised his plate in anticipation.

Heyes chuckled as Tricia passed two more rashers onto her son's plate. “You better watch out there Thaddeus; it won't be long before Nathan there is eating you under the table.”

“I take on all challengers!” Jed teased as he sent Nathan a look of defiance.

Nathan screamed his laughter and began to stuff bacon into his mouth. Both parents groaned; so much for table manners!

“Now see what you've done!” Heyes reprimanded his cousin. “You're gonna drive Beth crazy when you start having your own youngsters.”

Jed sent him a roguish smile, his blue eyes twinkling mischievously.

“Somebody is definitely in a good mood today,” David observed.

“How about some more coffee to really get you bouncing off the walls?” Trice offered.

“Sure!” Kid liked that idea.

“I could certainly do with another cup just to keep up with him today!” Heyes announced and offered his cup forward.

Tricia smiled and poured more coffee all around, then she sat down and nibbled on what bacon was left on her own plate.

“Can I go outside and play Momma?” Nathan asked over his last mouthful of bacon.

Tricia's shoulders slumped, already imagining the layers of dirt her son would be coming back in with. Oh well; he was going to need a bath before the wedding anyways.

“Yes alright.” She gave him permission and then raised her voice to be heard over the scraping of chair legs and the pounding of feet. “But stay in the back yard young man! Don't go disappearing anywhere!”

“Yes Momma!” came the acquiescence from down the hallway.

David chuckled as he sipped his coffee. Tricia just sighed and rolled her eyes. “Well, at this rate he'll burn off some energy,” she surmised. “Make him at least partly controllable during the ceremony.”

“Aw, he'll be fine,” Jed assured the mother. “Some young boy shenanigans will just add to the fun!”

Heyes snickered into his coffee cup; this was going to be an interesting day.

 

Shortly after 10:00 everyone in the Gibson household was busy getting prepared for the trip out to the ranch. Of them all, as usual; Tricia seemed to have the most to do with not only getting herself ready but making sure that her husband and her son were cleaned up and dressed to the nine's as well.

Inside the spare bedroom Hannibal and Jedidiah were standing in front of the full-length flip mirror putting some last minute touches to their attire. Both men were dressed in their fine charcoal gray suits with the dark blue ties and looking very debonair.

Indeed, when two very fine and handsome young men can actually be coerced into donning a tailor made-to-measure suit with the finest made-to-order material available, they can't help but be elevated to the extreme of dashingly elegant, take your breath away, drop dead melt in your mouth absolutely gorgeous...OH! No sorry—I digress! Let us just say they were absolutely pulchritudinous and leave it at that!

“Here, spit on this,” Heyes ordered his younger cousin as he held up his handkerchief to the other man's face.

Jed looked at it with creased brow but then did as he was told. Heyes promptly began rubbing the spit into the blond curls.

“Hey! What are ya' doin'?!” Jed demanded as he ducked out from under his older cousin's toiletry attempts. “You're rubbin' spit in my hair!”

“You got a cow-lick stickin' up,” Heyes informed him. “And that's not a good sign by the way; asking and answering your own question. Ya' gettin' nervous?”

“No I ain't gettin' nervous!” Jed snapped. “Well...yeah I am—but only because you're makin' me nervous! Stop fussing will ya'?”

“Well I just want ya' to look perfect for your big day!” Heyes protested, acting hurt and tugging on his friend's tie in an effort to straighten it.

Kid took a swat at him. “Will you cut that out!”

“Your tie was crooked!”

“It's fine! Will you just relax!”

“I am relaxed!” Heyes insisted. “I ain't the one gettin' married!”

“Yeah, well you're actin' like an old mother hen,” Kid accused him as he started to brush off his friend's shoulders with his hands.

“What are ya' doin'!?”

“Ya' got dandruff.”

“I don't have dandruff! What are you talking about!?”

“Ya' got dandruff Heyes! And it really shows up on this dark gray too,” Jed pointed out. “Though not as bad as it would have on that brown rag you used to wear.”

“It wasn't a rag!” Heyes protested. “That was a nice suit. Just....a little worse for wear...that's all. You should talk! That old gray horse blanket you used to wear—the hat didn't even fit!”

“The second one did,” Kid pointed out. “It was almost worth gettin' that first one shot full 'a bullet holes to give me reason to buy another. Kinda' put me outa pocket money for a while though.”

“Well I did try and fix it for ya'.”

Jed snorted. “Yeah I know Heyes. We've been over this before; I was better off buyin' a new one. I don't even think Amy coulda fixed that old one.”

“Yeah, well....”

“Ya' got the rings?”

“Course I got the rings!” Heyes looked insulted.

“Can I see 'em?”

“What's the matter, don't you trust me?”

“Of course I trust ya'!”

“Then what do ya' need ta' see them for?”

“Heyes!” Jed suddenly looked very sceptical. “You sure you got 'em?”

“Yeah. They're right here in my breast pocket...” Heyes patted his left chest pocket and then frowned. “....ahh....”

“HEYES!”

“No, no. They're here somewhere Kid!” Heyes insisted as he frantically began patting down his person. “Honestly Kid—I got em' here somewhere! I know I do! They gotta be....AH!” He smiled triumphantly as he dug into his pants pocket and held up the two shinning wedding bands. “See! Told ya' I had 'em.”

Jed sent Heyes 'the look' as his partner smiled sweetly and slipped the rings into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and made sure the button was done up.

“There. Safe and sound,” Heyes assured him.

“Uh huh.”

“Oh! Can't forget these,” Heyes recalled and opened up one of two small boxes sitting on the dresser. “Here, turn this way.”

“Oh yeah,” Jed agreed and he turned to face his cousin. “Feels kinda silly; a man wearin' flowers.”

“Yeah, but the ladies like it,” Heyes pointed out as he pinned the colourful boutonniere onto Jed's lapel. “There we go.” He gave the lapel a gentle tug to straighten everything out. He ginned cheekily. “Perfect!”

“Yeah, okay.” Jed looked down at it, still thinking this was kinda extreme. “Well, if I gotta wear one of these then at least you gotta wear one too.”

“Uh huh,” Heyes agreed and stood up straighter while Jed pinned another of the spring floral ornamentations onto his lapel.

“There ya' go.”

“Yeah!” Heyes' grin grew. “That's not so bad.”

Jed turned away to view his image in the mirror one more time just to be sure everything was in place. He tugged at his jacket a couple of times and gave his tie a quick straightening before giving a big sigh and smiling broadly at his own reflection.

Heyes stood quietly, watching him; drinking him in, wanting to hold this image in his mind's eye for all eternity. Against all odds his younger cousin was getting married and Heyes smiled. He thought for a moment that his heart was going to break, but not with hurt and regret, but with over-whelming love. Love for this man whom he'd spent his life with, sharing the joys and the pains, the loneliness and the camaraderie, the disappointments and the jubilations. This man who was his friend.

“Well Jed, it's finally here.” Heyes spoke softly.

Jed turned and their eyes met and locked. He smiled. “It was worth it Heyes,” he told his cousin. “I couldn't 'a done this without you here with me.”

Heyes grinned and they both started to laugh and simultaneously fell into a back-slapping man-hug.

“C'mon!” said Kid Curry as they separated. “Let's go 'wow' the ladies with our charm and good looks!”

“Yeah!”

 

The cousins stepped out to the kitchen to find Tricia all dolled up in her lovely soft peach frock with the green lace and the elegant forest green hat she had purchased from Amy. But despite all the finery and nice hat, Tricia was still being for all intent and purposes; a mother. Nathaniel was squirming and trying to push his mother's hands away while she attempted to adjust his bow tie.

“I don't wanna wear this!” Nathan was complaining. “It itches!”

“It'll just be for a while,” Tricia explained. “It makes you look very handsome!”

“I don't care! I don't wanna wear it!”

“How come you should get off easy?” Jed asked him. “We gotta wear these stuffy suits. Sometimes when you're a grown-up ya' just gotta suck it up!”

Nathan looked over at his Uncles Jed and Han and swallowed down his tears. He hardly recognized them all done up in their finery but they did look nice and he so much wanted to be like his uncles. He looked back at his mother, his young mind in turmoil as he weighed his options.

“How about a compromise?” the battle-weary mother suggested. “We'll take it off for now, but as soon as we get to the Double J it goes back on. Alright?”

About all Nathan heard from that was 'We'll take it off....' He sniffed and nodded. “Okay.”

A knock came to the front door and instantly opened to present a smiling and sparkling Miranda as her smile brightened up the kitchen with it's intensity. Heyes' wounded heart still found itself doing half a flip as soon as her blue eyes latched on to him. He could tell from her un-guarded expression that she was pleased with what she saw.

He also felt a certain amount of relief. Amy had assured him that the corsage consisting of a delicate white carnation with blue ribbon and lace would beautifully compliment not only his tie, but her hat and outfit as well. He smiled to himself when he saw the elegant white and blue floral patterned frock she was wearing and knew that Amy had been right—again! As the others in the room extended their greetings to the new-comer, Heyes turned to the counter and picked up a small white box that was sitting there. He turned back to face his companion for the day.

Miranda smiled nervously. 'This was silly', she thought! She felt like some little school-girl at her first social dance! Then Hannibal came up to her and smiled into her eyes and her knees went weak.

“Hello,” he greeted her. 

All she could do was smile at him and she felt her cheeks blush slightly with innocent arousal. Heyes' smile deepened into a dimpled grin and opening the small box he produced the corsage and stepping closer to her, his delicate fingers pinned it securely to the lapel of her soft blue jacket. He leaned in to her and kissed her on the cheek.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered into her ear. He pulled back and allowed himself to sink into her deep blue eyes. “You are beautiful.”

“So are you,” she responded before she could stop herself, then her hand came to her mouth as her eyes widened and her blush deepened with embarrassment. “Oh! No....I mean...you look...very handsome.”

Heyes nodded acceptance of the compliment and turned back to the group only to find the other three people in the room staring at them. Nathan started to giggle.

“What!?”

“No. Nothin' Heyes,” Jed assured him but couldn't help the gin that was spreading. “Nothin' at all!”

The front door opened again and a very debonair David popped his head in. “I have the carriage here. Are we all ready to go?”

 

David had booked the finest coach and pair well in advance of the wedding day just to be sure that his friend got the best treatment available in the whole county. Indeed, Jed stopped so abruptly in his awe of the fine vehicle that Heyes very nearly walked into him and was about to lay in a protest. That is until his own eyes took in the marvellous sight and he too stopped to stare.

The open midnight blue coach shone in the sun and even from atop the porch they could all smell the new leather and the polished wood trim. The matched pair of dappled greys with their glittering harnesses arched their graceful necks and pawed the ground with impatience to be going. They knew they looked fine and all this standing around wasn't doing anything to impress the neighbours.

“Oh my,” Heyes finally muttered.

Jed didn't say anything but continued to stand and stare until David agreed with the horses that it was time to be off.

“Come along everyone! Let's go!” He broke the trance. “Hang around much longer and the wedding will be all over with!”

“Oh!” Jed suddenly looked concerned. “Yeah right—we better go.”

Heyes chuckled and gave his friend a pat on the shoulder. Jed was obviously starting to get nervous to have fallen for that simple ruse. Still, it did work and the wedding party climbed into the coach, the gentlemen helping the ladies and the child helping himself until all were settled into the plush seats and ready to go. 

David gathered up the lines and didn't even have to cluck to the eager team to have them move out at a stylish trot and take direction to their destination.

“Geez,” Jed commented as he ran his hand along the soft leather. “Last time I sat in seats like this we were in the governor's office.”

“That governor ain't got nothin' on you!” Heyes announced, slipping back into the vernacular. “This is your day Jed, yours and Beth's. We have all combined our efforts to make it the best day you'll ever have.”

“Yeah?” said Jed, looking pleased. “What else have ya' done?”

“Well, you're just gonna havta wait and see!”

Jed sent his cousin a suspicious look. “You haven't done anything 'unsavoury' have ya'? Like arrangin' for a saloon gal to jump out of the wedding cake...?”

“Oh now!” Heyes looked insulted. “Would I do that to Beth?”

“Relax Jed,” Tricia assured him as she leaned forward and patted his knee. “You're going to enjoy today.”

“Yeah? Well, okay.”

“look at all the people staring at us!” Nathan hollered in delight and started to wave at them. “Hi Jimmy! Hi Tim! We're gettin' married!”

“Don't you wish you were wearing your bow tie now?” Tricia asked her excited son. “All your friends looking at you and you're the only one who's not got his tie on!”

Nathaniel sent his mother a dark look and sat back down in his seat. “They don't care about no stupid tie!”

“They don't care about 'any' stupid tie,” Tricia corrected him.

“Yeah!” her son agreed.

Randa chuckled and put a placating hand upon her cousin's arm. “Don't bother Trich, not today,” she suggested. “He's going to be too wired to care about etiquette.”

Nathan glanced from his mother to his 'aunt' and wondered what 'etiquette' meant. Heyes and Jed both stifled a laugh.

 

The approach into the Double J ranch yard was almost surreal. Anyone who could spare any time at all had been up early and outside to add the finishing touches to the wedding decorations. Colourful bunches of spring flowers adorned the railings along the front porch and on both barn doors. All the fences around the yard were also sporting their own variations of flowers and ribbon and bows and many had even been placed along the fence line leading into the yard itself. It wasn't long however before those particular arrangements were quickly taken down and the salvageable ones placed elsewhere once it was discovered that the horses were eating them.

A number of the guests had already arrived and though most of the ladies were inside the house helping with last minute details, the men were lounging on the porch or holding casual discussions in the yard. All the heads turned as the spiffy coach made it's way onto the property.

“Here they come!” Jesse announced loud enough in hopes that the ladies inside would hear.

Sam headed over and took hold of the near horse's bridle and held the team for the guest of honour and his entourage to disembark. Jesse and Kenny made their way over to greet them and shake hands with the bride groom.

“Howdy fellas, ladies,” Jesse said. “It's a good thing you got here when you did; Beth was about to have a nervous breakdown.”

Jed frowned as the group exited the coach. “Why? Are we late?”

“Nope,” Jesse assured him and smiled. “She's just nervous.”

Heyes gave his hand to both Tricia and Randa as they stepped out of the coach while David jumped down from the driver's seat.

“Well I'll just go on in and put her mind a ease,” Jed offered and putting action to words, he strode off towards the porch.

“Oh, Kenny,” David extended a hand to the warden. “How are you this morning?”

“Not too bad,” Kenny returned the greeting. “Good to see you up and about after our little celebration the other night.”

David groaned but then smiled. “Fortunately it's not something we indulge in too often.”

Kenny emphatically nodded agreement. “You already know my eldest son Joseph.”

“Yes!” David smiled and shook his hand. “Recover from the other nights festivities alright?”

Joseph almost turned green at the reminder but like a trooper he swallowed it down and smiled. “Yessir.” He put on a good front. “Didn't quite know what I was getting into that being my first stag party.”

David laughed. “I think most of us were feeling the effects the next morning,” he assured the young man. “We all tend to get a little carried away at a gathering of that nature.”

“Yessir.”

Kenny smiled at the doctor putting his son at ease. “I'll introduce you to my wife as soon as she stops hovering over the bride,” he added, knowing that David had yet to meet her.

David smiled. “Good! They do seem to be gathering, don't they? Well this lovely lady....” and he reached out and grabbed Tricia by the arm before she could follow Miranda who had long since disappeared into the house. “...is my wife Tricia.”

“Ma'am.”

“Oh! Mr. Reece.” Tricia smiled at him. “I have certainly heard a lot about you, from all three of these men! Nice to finally meet you.”

“Likewise.” Kenny nodded to her. “Sarah says she had a wonderful time out here yesterday meeting all you ladies. She said she felt right at home.”

“Oh well, it's hard not to like Sarah,” Tricia complemented. “Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me—I've GOT to go get a look at the dress!”

“Papa can I go play with J.J.?” came a little voice from behind David.

David looked around at him and smiled. “And this little whirlwind is our son, Nathaniel.”

“Well hello young man,” Kenny offered his hand and Nathan sent his father an enquiring look. David nodded acquiescence and Nathan smiled and accepted the handshake, feeling all grown-up. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too sir,” Nathan said, quite proud of himself, then turned back to his father. “Papa, can I go play with J.J.? Oh! And there's Todd!” His little brow creased. “Who's that?”

“That's my daughter, Evelyn,” Kenny announced then creased his brow in mild concern. “My other two boys are around here somewhere. Oh well, they'll show up, but I'm sure Eve would be quite happy to play with you.”

“But she's a girl!” Nathan complained and then was brought up short when he noticed that J.J. didn't seem to mind playing with her. “Bye!” he announced, not wanting to be left out and took off at a run to join up with his friends.

The fathers in the group had a chuckle.

“Won't be long before he's preferring girls to spend his time with,” David prophisized.

“Yeah,” Heyes recalled with a smile, remember how well J.J. had got on with Anya and how smitten he had been with Elise—or whatever her name might be. “J.J. certainly seems to like the ladies. You're gonna have your hands full with that one Jesse.”

“Oh please!” Jesse complained with a roll of the eyes. “The girls were bad enough! Give us a chance to catch our breath!”

All of a sudden there was a wild commotion up on the front porch consisting of various lady's voices raised in high pitched screaming accompanied by the scrambling of feet and a door being slammed shut in someone's face.

“HEY!” Kid's affronted complaint resonated around the yard. “What in tarnation...!?”

Everyone dropped their conversation and looked to the source of the commotion and were met with the insulted Mr. Curry standing dumb-struck on the porch wondering what hit him.

Heyes broke out laughing at the look on his partner's face. “You oughta know better than that Thaddeus!” he called over to him. “You know you're not allowed to see the dress before the wedding!”

“I don't wanna see the dress!” Jed complained. “I just wanted to see the bride!”

“But if the dress is on the bride it kinda comes to the same thing!”

“Geesh!” Kid complained and shaking his head he stomped back down the porch steps and returned to the group. “Ya' know women get really weird about all this 'nuptial' stuff. I'll be real glad when it's all done and we can get down to what I'm really looking forward to.” Jed stopped and looked at everybody looking back at him. “What?”

“Really Jed,” Jesse admonished him. “This is my daughter you're talking about. A little more discretion would be appreciated.”

Jed's mouth hung open. “What?” he repeated and then looking at Heyes who was fighting to hold back a laugh, he suddenly caught his breath. “NO! I didn't mean—THAT! I meant....lunch!”

“Ohhhh!” was the dubious concession from the other men.

“No, tell 'em Heyes!” Kid was feeling ganged-up on. “You tell 'em; I meant food.”

“Yeah Kid. Sure ya' did,” Heyes teased him.

“HEYES....!”

Heyes tried to stifle his amusement at his partner's expense and then did take pity on him. “Yeah, okay,” he conceded. “I'm sure that's all he meant Jesse. He has too much respect for Beth to speak about her that way—and too much respect for food to let a little thing like his wedding get in the way of lunch!”

Jed sent him a look, not sure if the comment helped his case or not.

Jesse smiled. “Oh I know,” he admitted. “We're just pulling your leg Jed—gotta expect that today.”

Jed's shoulders relaxed. “Geesh....” he mumbled. “Women ain't the only ones who get a little weird...”

David gave him a slap on the back. “It's alright Jed. It's your wedding day and that means you're fair game for teasing.”

“Best just sit back and enjoy it,” Kenny advised him.

The sound of more horses and carriages coming down the lane caught everyone's attention and within moments more guests had joined the festivities.

“Howdy boys,” Lom greeted his two 'wards' “Ya' ready for the big day?”

“Yeah Lom,” Kid answered, shaking his hand. “Martha...glad you could make it.” And he leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Martha, this is my partner, Hannibal Heyes.”

Heyes suddenly looked a little uncomfortable. “Oh! Ahh....howdy ma'am.” He took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. He wasn't sure if he should give her a kiss or not so he hung back. “Nice to finally meet you.”

“Yes,” Martha smiled at him. “My husband has certainly told me a lot about you. And of course Jed and Beth talk about you all the time. It's good to see you looking so well after your tribulations.”

“Oh, ahmm. Yes ma'am.”

“Call me 'Martha' young man,” she told him. “You and Lom have been friends for far too long for us to be on formal terms.”

“Oh yes. Thank you.” Heyes smiled then and relaxed a little bit. He really didn't understand why meeting Lom's wife had caused him a certain amount of anxiety and he made an honest effort to let it go. His smile grew till it took over his face and Martha's eyes lit up and she laughed.

“Oh Lom! You are so right!” she exclaimed, giving Heyes' arm a light squeeze. “What a charmer!”

“Uh huh,” came Lom's caustic response as he sent Heyes a look and steered his wife over towards the refreshment table. “Come along Martha.”

“Oh....” Heyes' smile dropped into a gentle shy one and he glanced over at the Kid who's eyes were laughing at him. “Yeah, yeah....”

“Howdy boys! All set for the big day Kid?”

“Hello Harry,” Jed greeted him. “And Miss Isabelle, how nice you could make it after all.”

Isabelle smiled sweetly, her arm possessively entwined in Harry's. Harry didn't seem to mind, he was grinning like the Cheshire cat.

“I guess I just needed the right incentive Jed,” Isabelle commented through her smile. “When a 'real' gentleman asks a lady out, well how can one refuse?”

“Yessir boys!” Harry puffed himself up. “Ya' just gotta know how to treat a lady, that's all—and strike when the iron's hot!”

“Ya' well, you've certainly had enough practice asking the ladies out, Harry,” Jed commented. “I suppose it's about time ya' figured out how ta' do it!”

Harry got himself all blustered up. “Oh well....”

Heyes laughed and clapped him on the back. “Oh now Harry, don't mind the Kid. He's kinda nervous, you know. Wedding day an' all.”

“Oh, yeah I suppose so...”

“Yeah Harry, I'm just teasin' ya',” Jed assured him. “Miss Isabelle here, well she's a mighty fine catch.”

Harry was soon grinning again but Isabelle had her nose in the air.

“Harry!” Jesse, who had been talking with David finally noticed the new-comers. “Glad you could make it. And Miss Isabelle. You're looking lovely today.”

“Thank you Mr. Jordan.” Isabelle almost curtsied. “It's nice to know there are SOME gentlemen still left in this world.”

“Jesse,” Harry returned the greeting and they shook hands.

“Why don't you join us for some refreshments?” Jesse offered as he motioned towards the heavily laden table. “There's sandwiches and iced tea and lemonade and of course, something a little stronger for after the ceremony for those who wish it.”

“Why thank you, Mr. Jordan.” Isabelle smiled at him. “I certainly could do with something cool to drink.”

“So who all is coming to this little shindig?” Harry asked as he looked around at the numerous guests.

“Well, neighbours from the other ranches and some of the townsfolk, not to mention most of the people who were at the stag and their families,” Heyes answered him and then he and Jed exchanged looks. 

Jed shrugged and they both looked back to Harry.

“Harry, Isabelle said she wanted a cool drink,” Jed reminded him.

“Yeah, well that's fine,” Harry responded as he continued to look around.

Heyes and Jed exchanged looks again.

Heyes sighed. “Well don't you think you should go and get it for her?”

“What? OH!” Harry quickly returned his attention to his date. “Oh yes, of course! Come Isabelle, let me get you that drink.”

Isabelle smiled at him, thankful that he had finally got the message and allowed herself to be lead away.

“Good old Harry,” Jesse observed. “Hasn't changed much has he?”

“Nope,” Kid agreed.

“I'm surprised he actually found a date for today,” Kenny admitted. “Do you think the young lady knows what's she getting herself into?”

Everybody who knew Harry chuckled.

“I think she might be starting to figure it out,” Heyes commented.

“And she just might be desperate enough to not care,” Jed added.

“You fellas sure do know a lot of strange people,” David observed. “Speaking of which....”

Everyone turned again as a horse and surrey came into the yard, accompanied by two rather scruffy looking gentlemen on horseback.

“Hey Wheat! Kyle!”

Heyes and Jed stepped forward to meet their two friends and hearty handshakes made the rounds.

“Hi ya' Kid, Heyes,” Wheat grumbled. “I told ya' we'd be here.”

“Yeah, we ain't gonna miss this fer nothin'!” Kyle exclaimed. “And look who we run into in town!”  
And he nodded towards the surrey.

“HO! HO!” Kid actually clapped his hands and he ran forward to give the woman a big hug, actually lifting her off her feet.

“Oh! Thaddeus...”

“Sister Julia!” Heyes laughed and came forward for his hug. “We didn't think you could come!”

“I didn't think I was going to be able to either,” the Sister informed them once she had caught her breath. “But Mr. Reece pulled some strings with the Mother Superior and here I am!”

“Kenny!” Heyes was still grinning but he sent the warden a reprimanding look. “You knew she was coming and you didn't say anything?”

“Of course I knew she was coming, they came on the train with us,” Kenny admitted. “But she made me promise not to say anything. She wanted to surprise you.”

“We sure are surprised,” Kid agreed. “And it sure is nice ta' see ya'!”

“It is certainly nice to be here,” Sister Julia reiterated. “And...I brought someone else with me who really wanted to come. I hope you don't mind.”

“Oh no,” Heyes assured her. “why should we mind?”

“Well...” The sister stepped aside and a little six year old girl peeked out from behind her habit.

Heyes' grin softened. “Sally.....”

“Hello Mr. Heyes,” she said shyly. “Is it alright?”

Heyes squatted down to her level. “Of course it's alright, sweetheart,” he told her. “Are you going to come and give me a hug?”

The huge smile spread over her face and she instantly came out from hiding and ran into his arms. Heyes hugged her close, feeling the aching in his heart for another little girl whom he missed so much. But he pushed that aside and allowed himself to be pleased at seeing this special little one again. He stood up, bringing the child up with him and she seemed quite content to stay there with her arms around his neck.

“Would you like some lemonade?” he asked her.

“Yes please.”

Heyes turned towards the refreshment table and found Kenny's grey eyes watching him. Kenny smiled and Heyes sent him a quiet nod and carried on to fulfil his deed. Jed was so busy watching Heyes that he forgot about his own manners and then suddenly came back to reality.

“Oh! Sister.” He turned back to her. “Would you like some lemonade, or iced tea?”

“Why certainly, Thaddeus. That would be lovely,” she accepted as she took his arm. “And might I say that you look splendid today.”

“Why thank you Sister.”

“And how is Beth holding up?”

“I have no idea.”

Sister Julia laughed and patted his arm. “Don't you worry—I'm sure she's fine. I can go in and check on her for you if you like. After my drink!”

“Yes ma'am,” Jed agreed to that. “I would appreciate it.”

Over the next half-hour more guests arrived from town or the neighbouring ranches who were friends of the Jordans' and pretty soon the whole front yard was a mess of suits and springtime finery and lots of laughter. Children were running around being children despite the restrictions of 'Sunday best' clothing and everyone was in a very festive mood.

Steven showed up seemingly from out of nowhere, but who had actually been sitting up on the front porch with The Reverend Sikes discussing the oddities of human nature. Mr. Sikes decided it was time to approach the groom and start to get his thoughts onto the upcoming ceremony. The appointed hour was fast approaching and things needed to be got in order.

“Mr. Curry, Mr. Heyes,” Sikes interrupted their jovial conversation with two rather unsavoury individuals.

“Oh, Reverend,” Jed greeted him. “Ah..is it time?”

“Not quite,” he assured the groom. “I just wanted to make sure we have everything in order.”

“Oh yeah, of course.”

“Now, I assume at the appropriate time the bride and her party will come down the porch steps,” the reverend explained. “Now you and your friend will be standing over there by that very nicely decorated well? Is that correct?”

Heyes and Jed exchanged looks and both shrugged. “Yeah, I guess,” Jed agreed.

Mr. Sikes smiled. “Fine. Now, Mr. Heyes do you have the rings?”

“Yessir, Reverend.” Heyes smiled, patting his breast pocket as best he could with one arm still holding Sally.

“Here Joshua, let me take her off your hands for awhile,” the Sister offered. “Why don't you come with me to meet the bride.”

Sally snuggled closer in to the base of Heyes' neck indicating that she was quite happy right where she was. Sister Julia smiled but insisted.

“Come along,” she said. “Mr. Heyes has to prepare for the ceremony now. You can visit with him later.”

Heyes leaned down and placed the child on her feet. “Don't worry Sally,” he assured her. “I'll be here all afternoon.”

“Alright,” came the disappointed response, but she did allow herself to be led off towards the house and only looked back once.

At the same time as Sister Julia and Sally entered the house, Belle came out looking just a little flustered.

“J.J.!” she called for her son. “J.J.! Where are you!?” She threw up her hands in frustration and looked over to her husband. “Where has that boy gotten to?”

Jesse smiled. “I'll look for him,” he offered. “Those kids have been underfoot all morning and now that we want them, they're nowhere to be found.”

“I think I saw him with William and Charlie,” Kenny offered. “They were on the other side of the barn.”

Jesse nodded and headed over that way. Belle sighed and turned to go back into the house. She noted that the refreshment table was becoming sparse yet again but decided that they were too close the the ceremony to worry about that. There would be plenty more to eat afterwards.

Ten minutes later Jesse came striding back from around the barn with a screaming J.J. hoisted over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He was pounding his father's back with his small fists and letting it be known without a doubt that he 'didn't want to.'! Nathan was running along behind, trying to keep up with Jesse's long strides and behind him came Todd and then Evelyn, protesting that they 'didn't mean to.'! From what could be told of this group, all four of them were covered in mud and Evelyn's hair was sticking out in all different directions. The three dogs brought up the rear of the procession barking in their two cents worth and having a grand old time.

“Oh my God!” Kenny exclaimed as he watched opened-mouthed at the disaster that was his daughter. “Where are my boys? They were suppose to be watching out for her! Charlie! William!”

Kenny absently put his half-empty glass down on the table and trotted off in search of his wayward sons while Jesse ascended the porch steps and led his procession into the house. Even to the guests scattered about the yard the screams of disbelief from the various mothers could be heard emanating from the open front door.

All four ex-outlaws leaned on each other and started laughing. 

David sighed and put down his own drink. “I suppose I should get in there and see if I can be of assistance. Tricia might just wring his neck.”

The Reverend looked worried. “I wonder if this is going to delay the ceremony.”

 

David made his way over to the front porch to find himself accompanied by Sam. He had heard the commotion from inside the barn where he'd already had his hands full dealing with all the extra horses and rigs showing up on the property. Concessions had been put into place to deal with them but it was still proving to be over-whelming. The last thing he needed today was a recalcitrant son!

The two fathers made their way into the house and focus was diverted back to the second barn as Kenny put in a re-appearance. His expression suggested that he was not pleased and the look on the faces of his two sons who followed behind were almost comical in their guilt if not actual repentance.

Then Kid tapped Heyes on the arm and pointed in the direction of the other side of the first barn where the two older of the Johnston girls were skitting into view. They were doing their best to look innocent but the quick movements of brushing off each others backs and trying to straighten their hair belied their attempts.

The partners sent each other wicked grins and tapped their iced tea glasses together in a playful toast but couldn't manage to drink it while they were snorting their laughter.

Kenny and his two young men joined the group but Will and Charlie quickly spied the refreshment table and made a hasty retreat to slacken their thirst—and to get out of reach of their father. Kenny just shook his head and retrieved his own glass from where he'd left it.

Heyes was still laughing, and being in this jovial mood for a change was making him giddy and he took liberties with the warden that he might otherwise not have considered. He draped an arm across the man's shoulders and gave him a friendly shake.

“Don't worry about it Kenny,” he said through his grin. “It's a day to celebrate love.”

Kenny growled but still permitted Heyes access. “I swear over-seeing a prison full of convicts is child's play compared to being a father!” he complained and he locked eyes with the Kid. “See what you're in for Jed? You two laugh now, but just you wait....”

“Aww Kenny, c'mon,” Jed teased him. “You can't tell me you don't love being a father. This is one of those things you're gonna look back on and laugh about!”

“HA!” was Kenny's caustic response.

“See?” said Heyes, giving the warden another shake. “You're already laughin'! C'mon Kenny, relax. They're just being boys. Think of the education they've been getting on this trip. The two oldest ones got to go to their first stag party, learned all about robbing trains and blowing up safe's and even got falling over drunk like real men! Now today those two had the opportunity to take the neighbour's daughters for a quick roll in the hay behind the barn! Talk about a rite of passage!”

Heyes and Jed tapped their glasses again in a celebration of up and coming manhood.

“Oh brother!” Kenny complained. “Mr Jordan and I are doing things opposite here. I have older sons with a daughter growing up and he has older girls with a son trailing the pack. I swear; I don't know which way's worse! God; let me live long enough to have grandchildren!”

Sister Julia broke in upon this prayer and smiled at the father's distress.

“I'm sure He will, Warden Reece,” she assured him.

“Oh, Sister.” Kenny smiled at her. “Thank you. How is everything going in there?”

She rolled her eyes but laughed. “Pandemonium!”

Jed instantly sobered up. “Oh. How is Beth?”

She smiled and sighed with understanding tolerance. “She was holding her own until the mud-caked children showed up and then she burst into tears.”

“Oh no,” Jed groaned. “Maybe I should....”

“No, no.” The Sister put a hand on his arm stopping him before he could take a step. “Leave her be Thaddeus. I think seeing you right now would just make it worse.”

Jed's shoulders slumped. “Oh.”

“Don't worry about it!” she soothed him. “Even with the various mothers tending to their off-spring, Beth still has plenty of friends with her to help her dry up. Trust me; she'll be fine.”

One o'clock came and went and by 1:30 the Reverend Sikes decided to make a discretionary visit to the house to see how much longer the bridal party expected to be. He returned a few moments later, looking relieved. He approached the groom and smiled.

“They're almost ready,” he assured them. “Are you gentlemen set to go?”

“Yup,” Jed announced. “As long as my partner still has the rings...?”

Heyes sent him a wounded look. “Of course I have them!” he insisted as he yet again patted his chest pocket. “Really, Kid; the amount of faith you have in me....”

“Oh it's not lack of faith Heyes,” Kid pointed out. “I have complete faith in your ability to misplace things....”

“Oh now come on!”

The front door of the house opening caught their attention and some of the ladies not included in the bridal entourage made their joyous way down the steps and into the yard. 

Miranda and Clementine along with little Sally were the first of the group down the steps and spotting their group right away, headed over to join them.

“Clem!” Heyes greeted their friend and gave her a big hug and a kiss. “How is everything going in there?”

“As well as can be expected,” Clem answered as she straightened her bonnet. “Reminds me why I'm in no hurry to get married. Oh Kid! Well, maybe if you'd asked me....”

“Uh huh,” he responded playfully then took her in a hug himself and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I seem to recall that the last time you and I were married you only had eyes for the Alcalde!”

Clem boo hoo'd him and gave him a playful slap on the chest. Jed smiled. “Always nice to have ya' here Clem!”

“Oh well....”

“Kenny,” Heyes took Miranda's elbow and brought her forward. “you haven't met my companion for the day. Mrs. Miranda Thornton, this is Mr. Kenny Reece. He's the warden out at the prison. I've told you about him.”

“Oh my goodness!” Miranda laughed and both parties pointed a finger at the other.

“It's you!” they both voiced together.

Heyes almost looked stricken—they already knew each other? “What....?”

Kenny put a placating hand on Heyes' arm. “It's nothing Heyes. Your lady friend and I ran into each other at the hotel yesterday.”

“Yes!” Randa agreed. “Quite literally! Again, I do apologize. I shouldn't have been running like an over-excited school girl.”

“Running?” Heyes eyebrows went up.

“Well Trich was in a hurry!” Randa defended herself. She gave a little smirk at the offended look on Heyes' face and gently stroked his arm. “We were picking up the other ladies at the hotel to come out here for Beth's bridal shower. Tricia was holding the team out on the street and I came in to get everyone. We were in a hurry. It just happened that I came barging—most unladylike—through the front door of the hotel just as Mr. Reece was coming out.”

“Oh....”

She smiled back at Kenny again and offered her hand. “Very nice to be formally introduced to you Mr. Reece.”

Kenny took her hand in greeting. “A pleasure Mrs. Thornton.”

“Oh please! Call me Miranda—or Randa, or Randi—or that crazy woman who runs through hotel lobby's! 'Mrs. Thornton' makes me sound so stuffy.”

Kenny couldn't help but grin—his first impression of her was not mistaken; what a firecracker! “I'm sure all you ladies are on first name basis after your get together yesterday. We may as well make it universal. Call me Kenny, but that's the only name I have. 'Kennith' makes me sound so stuffy!”

Miranda grinned and nodded. She liked this man and could see why Hannibal and he were friends despite coming from opposites ends of the prison yard.

“Oh, looks like we're getting close,” the reverend predicted, cutting in on the other conversations.

All eyes turned back to the front door. Sam with Maribelle and Merle were coming down the steps with a noticeably cleaner Todd in tow. Behind them came David, Tricia and Nathan with everyone hurrying to get out of the way so the proceedings could finally get moving. Jesse stepped out onto the porch and waved over to the reverend to signal that they were ready just as Sarah and a much cleaner and neater Evelyn scooted out from behind him and hurried down the steps.

“Oh, there's my cue,” Kenny announced. “I'll see you boys later.”

“Yeah, alright,” Heyes agreed.

Kenny stopped himself in mid-stride and turning to the Kid he smiled and shook his hand. “Just relax Jed. The wedding ceremony is the easiest part about being married so just relax and enjoy it. You're surrounded by friends here.”

“Yeah Kenny. Thanks,” Jed answered him. “I think.”

“Alright,” Clem announced as she leaned in to give Jed a kiss on the cheek. “We're going to go join David and Tricia. Good luck.”

Miranda and Heyes locked eyes and she smiled at him as he squeezed her hand. “See you later,” she told him. “Good luck, Jed.”

And she and Clem made their exit.

“Well gentlemen,” the reverend suggested. “shall we get into position?”

“Ah yeah, okay,” Jed agreed.

Heyes put a hand on his friends arm as they moved to stand by the well. “Just relax Kid. Enjoy it.”

“How come everybody thinks I'm nervous?” Jed griped. “I'm fine!”

“Yeah?” Heyes asked him. “Then how come the blood has drained from your face and ya' keep rubbing your hands against your trousers?”

“Oh...well.....”

“And here they come,” the reverend stated quietly.

All heads turned and an approving murmur went through the assembly. Jesse was standing on the porch looking about as proud as a father could be while on his arm was the most beautiful apparition that Jed had ever laid eyes upon. Beth was radiant. If she had been crying there was no sign of it now. Her brown eyes were sparkling with excitement and her smile went on forever.

She was wearing her mother's wedding dress with the pearls and the yellow lace and embroidering but her bouquet was a colourful selection of spring flowers. Yellows and blues and pinks all in a lovely medley together that managed to compliment her dress, her hair, her eyes and her blushing complexion all in one statement. Her long blond hair was done up in a french braid and then folded into a tight roll on the back of her head so that the dainty hat sat comfortably on the crown and the delicate veil flowed elegantly over her shoulders and down her back.

“Oh my,” Heyes whispered then leaned in close to his dumb-struck partner. “Feeling weak in the knees Jed?”

“Shuddup Heyes.”

Jesse hesitated on the porch for a moment to give everyone a chance to realize that the event was about to begin and when they had silence he squeezed his daughters hand in his and led her down the steps. Behind them came Bridget and Carol, both with their own Spring bouquets and Carol looking nervous but pleased as punch to have been included in the ceremony. Behind them came Belle and beside her, suddenly feeling nervous with everybody staring at them was J.J. with his own little boutonniere pinned to his jacket. He was looking very uncomfortable.

So the procession made its way across the yard and Jed could not take his eyes off his bride. She was radiant, her smile growing wider and brighter with each step so that by the time she reached her betrothed she was grinning so hard her face would have hurt if she'd thought to be aware of it. Jesse took his daughter's hand and placed it over onto Jed's left arm then he extended his right hand and the two men locked eyes for an instant and shook hands. Then Jed's gaze instantly fell to his bride again. He just couldn't believe how beautiful she was.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Family and friends!” The Reverend Sikes began, bringing everyone's attention to him. “We are gathered here today.....”

 

Late morning of The Big Day. Double J Ranch.

 

Nathan ran over to his friends all excited and ready for play.

“Hi!” he chirped.

“Hey Nathan,” J.J. greeted him. “You allowed to play?”

“Yeah. So long as I don't get dirty!”

“What's the fun in that!?” Todd complained. “If ya' can't get dirty it ain't no fun!”

“I don't want my dress to get all dirty,” Evelyn pointed out. “We can still have fun and not get dirty.”

“What do you know?” Todd insulted her. “You're just a girl!”

“She's alright!” J.J. came to his new friends defence. “And I know a girl who could beat you up no problem!”

“Oh yeah?” came Todd's sceptical response. “So where is she?”

J.J. backed off from the other boy just a touch. “She's not here right now.” The he brightened up. “But if she was she could beat you up!”

“Yeah right!” Todd snorted. “That'd be the day!” And he took off running towards the barn.

Nathan jumped to it and followed him but J.J. held back when Evelyn showed no sign of joining in.

“What's the matter?” J.J. asked her.

Evelyn pouted. “I don't think he wants me to play.”

“Oh don't worry about him,” J.J. advised her. “He likes to think he's something special, but his own sister beats him up all the time!”

Evelyn giggled and the two new friends joined up and followed the others around to the back of the barn. They had just caught up with the other two boys who were climbing the manure pile when Evelyn heard her name being called. She turned around to find her two older brothers striding towards her.

“Where'd you get to!?” William demanded. “Pa told us to watch you and then you go taking off on us!”

“I'm fine,” she insisted, not wanting to have her brothers around to ruin her fun. “I'm not going to go anywhere.”

“Yeah, but Pa told us to watch out for you and if anything happened we'd be gettin' it!” William pointed out. “So stick close, why don't ya'!?”

“Oh she's alright!” insisted Charlie as he came up behind his younger brother. “Let her be.”

“Yeah, but....”

“She's fine!” Charlie continued, then he smiled. “C'mon, I got something to show ya'.”

Young William hesitated, looking back at his sister while chewing his lower lip. He wanted to go with Charlie but he didn't want to be getting into any trouble either and Charlie was always getting him into trouble.

“C'mon!” Charlie insisted as he started over towards the back entrance to the first barn. “She'll be fine!”

William gave one more look to his sister, then turned and followed his brother; the temptation for their own fun was just too great. Who wants to be stuck looking after their baby sister anyways!

“Finally!” Evelyn muttered. “I'm a big girl—everybody keeps telling me...so I don't need babysitting!”

“That's right!” Todd agreed and picking up a ball of horse manure, he threw it at her.

It landed square in the middle of her chest and dropped down to the ground, leaving a moist brown stain on her pretty dress.

“Hey!” she yelled at him, her little brow creased in a frown. “That's not fair—I wasn't looking!”

She stooped and picked up her own horse ball and threw it back at him. Within seconds the fight was on with Todd and Nathan on one side and J.J. and Evelyn on the other. They all ran up over and around the pile of manure throwing balls and trying to avoid being hit by ducking behind cover and keeping on the move. They ran through the back of the barn yard, knocking over water pails and barn utensils, laughing and screaming the whole time.

They were fortunate that all the adults were too busy with their own agendas to pay too much attention to what noise the children were making. To add to the deception they made numerous circuits around the front yard, weaving in and out of the many adults there without anyone giving them much mind. Just children burning off their energy. They never stayed still long enough for anyone to notice the 'Sunday best' clothing becoming more and more soiled or the smell of horse manure becoming more and more rank.

Finally the children became tired of this game and on their last pass towards the back of the barn J.J. veered off and led everyone down to the convenient creek which was situated behind the barns and a hill, hiding them from sight and sound. Here they jumped into the shallow water seeing who could make the biggest splash with their feet or balanced themselves on the rocks and stones in an effort to cross to the other side without stepping into the water at all. None of them were terribly successful at this.

Evelyn squatted on the bank collecting up pretty rocks while the boys busied themselves throwing the bigger rocks into the deeper waters again just to see who could make the biggest splash. They were laughing and shouting and finally having a good time at this stuffy, adult oriented gathering and even Todd had to admit that Evelyn was a pretty good guy after all.

The only incident to mar the play was actually very minor as far as the children were concerned. The boys became so rambunctious in their rock splashing that J.J. accidentally bumped into Evelyn where she was squatting on the bank and sent her sprawling head first into the creek. It wasn't too terribly deep, but deep enough for her to be totally submerged in the prone position and to come up startled and gasping for air.

“Sorry Evelyn,” J.J. apologized. “I didn't mean to.”

“I know...gasp....cough.... that's alright,” she told him and she got to her feet and waded out of the water to stand dripping on the bank.

What was left of her nice hair doo was in a total disarray and using her muddy hands to attempt to push the dripping locks back into place only made the situation worse. She sighed and wiped her hands on her dress. The other two boys stopped their play and looked at her, concerned.

“You alright Evelyn?” Nathan asked her.

“Yes, I'm fine,” said the little trooper. “But all my pretty rocks got scattered.....”

“WHAT IN TARNATION ARE YOU CHILDREN DOING DOWN THERE!?”

Four young heads jerked up to the top of the small hill. Jesse stood there with his hands on his hips and a look in his eye that let J.J. know that this was not a drill!

“We were just playing Papa!” J.J. tried to defend himself. “You said it was alright...”

“I also said 'DON'T GET DIRTY'!” Jesse started coming down the hill and the four children scattered. J.J. wasn't fast enough though and his father grabbed him by the arm and brought him around. “What in the world have you gotten into!? Oh my goodness! Your mother is going to have a fit!”

J.J. was almost in tears. “It's not that bad! Please Papa! Don't tell Momma—she'll wanna give me a bath and I already had one today!”

“That's just too bad, young man,” Jesse told his son as he hoisted him up and slung him over a shoulder. “Looks like you're in for another one!”

“NO! No Papa—I don't want to!”

Jesse started back up the hill, then turned and looked down at the three more contrite little faces. “C'mon the rest of you,” he beckoned them. “The ceremony was suppose to start in twenty minutes but I have a feeling things are going to be delayed a bit.” He turned forward again and continued on up the hill.

The three other faces hesitated a moment, sending nervous glances back and forth between them. Finally Nathan sighed, knowing that he wasn't going to be getting out of this one so he may as well get it over with.

“C'mon,” he said to the other two and started up the hill.

xxx

 

“Come on Will, hurry up!” Charlie complained. “They're not gonna wait forever.”

“Who?” William asked, still sending furtive glances back towards his sister.

But Charlie just kept on going until he had led his brother around to the back of the first barn. He stopped at the rear entrance and did a quick scan of the area to make sure that Mr. Jefferies was busy elsewhere. He smiled and waved his brother in closer.

William creased his brow, wondering what his brother was up to and nearly jumped out of his skin when a feminine voice spoke up behind him. He turned quickly and almost fell over at the sight of two teenage girls standing there. They were obviously sisters as both had long dark brown hair and blue eyes and their features were too similar for them not to be related. One was older than the other, but it was obvious that neither of them were children.

The oldest one smiled sweetly, twirling a strand of her long hair between her fingers. “Hi,” she giggled. “My name's Heather. This is my baby sister Hazel.”

Hazel sighed with indignation. “I'm not a baby! I'm only nineteen months younger than you so give it up will you!” Suddenly realizing that she was sounding like a spoilt brat she mimicked her sister's smile and found her own strand of hair to twirl. “Hi.”

William swallowed nervously. He felt himself blushing and that only served to cause him more embarrassment. Charlie rolled his eyes and stepped forward, giving Heather his best smile.

“My name's Charlie,” he introduced himself, then jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “That's my baby brother, William.”

William felt put down but he was too nervous to say anything. He shyly looked over at Hazel who giggled and sent him a little wave. He smiled back.

“I haven't seen you fellas around these parts,” Heather continued on with the idle conversation. “Where you from?”

“Laramie, Wyoming,” Charlie told her and he puffed up with some pride. “My Pa's the warden at the prison there. He's an important man.”

“Really!?” Heather was duly impressed. “That must be very dangerous.”

“Sure is!” Charlie agreed. “Sometimes those convicts can get real mean, but my Pa knows how to deal with them. He's the best warden the prison has ever had. What does your Pa do?”

“He's a rancher,” Heather told him nonchalantly. “Our spread's not quite as big as the Double J but it's still big enough! We've got some real nice horses.”

“Oh yeah....”

Throughout this conversation between the older set, William and Hazel continued to smile at each other. Hazel was waiting patiently for William to make a move and William was waiting for his brother to show him what to do. He'd often fantasized about have a young lady at his disposal and he certainly knew what was suppose to go where, but now that he was faced with a real flesh and blood female he just didn't know what was next. He knew where they were and he knew where he would like to be, but what were the proper steps to take in between?

Finally Hazel got tired of waiting and stepping forward she took young William by the hand and pulled him into the back of the barn. “C'mon!” she said. “They're gonna be looking for us soon.”

Charlie smiled at Heather and she rolled her eyes back at him. Seems it was typical of her sister to not take time to enjoy the pleasantries but it did get the show on the road. Charlie took her hand and led her most willingly into another section of the barn—away from his brother. He went up to the main area of the structure and looked around for any unwanted eyes and saw only horses staring back at him. There were a few snorts and stamping of feet but then the animals lost interest and went back to munching on their hay.

“C'mon,” Charlie whispered. “In here.”

He led Heather into the one of the tack rooms and shutting the door he dragged a saddle over in front of it so no one could walk in on them—at least not too quickly. He grabbed a couple of saddle blankets and spread them on the floor. The air was dusty and so were the blankets along with their own layer of straw but neither of them seemed to be noticing that.

Charlie knelt down on the blankets and Heather came down with him, her eyes sparkling and her heart pounding so fast she was sure it must burst from her chest. She bit her lip nervously but they had come this far and she wasn't about to back out now. Besides, she knew darn well that her younger sister wasn't going to change her mind and she wasn't going to take second bidding to her!

Both of them were breathing heavily and experiencing feelings they'd only ever felt before in the privacy of their own beds. But still; this was different—this was far more intense!

Charlie came forward and kissed her tentatively on the lips and he thought he was going to choke the emotion rose up so fast. He set back again and looked into her eyes. She smiled and they came together again a little more passionately this time—a little more confidently. She slipped her arms around his waist and pulled him in close. She felt surprise as her mind registered the bulge in his pants; she didn't think it would happen that quickly!

They drew back from one another, their breathing heavy and their nervous fingers exploring the other through their clothing. Charlie looked into her eyes again and then slowly and with shaking fingers moved his hands up to the neckline of her blouse. He waited for her to stop him, but she didn't so slowly and with his fingers fumbling, he undid the buttons that were hiding her treasures.....

 

“Why don't you kiss me?” Hazel asked a blushing William. “Don't you like girls?”

“Well sure I like girls!” William defended himself. “It's just....”

“What?”

“I donno.” He shrugged and sent an anxious look over his shoulder hoping for a discreetful way out of this. “I...I wasn't expecting this.”

“Well we're here now.” Hazel's logic was indisputable. “If you don't do it, you'll regret it later.”

William swallowed and thought about that statement. She was probably right, he'd be kicking himself later if he didn't take advantage of the situation. How many times had he lain in his bed and wished for a moment like this? He bit his lower lip.

Hazel came forward and kissed him. He jumped back, his eyes wide with surprise. Hazel sighed with frustration.

“C'mon,” she encouraged him. “You know you'll like it once we get started.”

William chewed on his lip again then taking hold of his courage he stepped up to the plate and kissed her on the lips. He jumped back in surprise again when he felt her tongue come out teasingly and brush against him. He blinked and realized that he had actually liked that so he came in again and this time the kiss was mutual.

Neither young man noticed that the sounds of their sister's playful laughter was no longer being heard as the enticements of the moment drowned out all other senses.

“William! Charlie! Where are you!? I told you to keep an eye on your sister!”

“Oh Shit!”

“Your Papa!?” Heather asked in some alarm.

“Yeah!” Charlie confirmed, showing some distress as he pulled up his trousers. “He's gonna have my hide!”

Heather quickly pushed down her skirts and began to button up her blouse. Things had been going so well too!

“Hurry up!” he told her.

“I am hurrying!” she insisted as the last button got done. “Okay.”

Charlie took her hand and pulled her to her feet, hauled the saddle out of the way and opened the door just a crack. He peered out into the main section of the barn and not seeing anyone he made a dash out the door and down the back isle to the rear exit. Heather was being pulled along behind him whether she wanted to go or not and then found herself running right into the back of Charlie when he suddenly put on the brakes.

She peered around his shoulder and found herself looking into the steel gray eyes of the prison warden. 

Hazel and William stood to the side, Hazel looking defiant but William looking guilty as sin. Silence ensued.

“You young ladies get back to your folks,” Kenny finally told them. “And don't think that I'm not going to be having a word with your Pa about this.”

Both girls groaned but taking advantage of the temporary reprieve they sent their respective play-mates sidelong glances and made a hasty retreat around the side of the barn.

The two boys stood and waited. When nothing was said and their father simply stood quietly,looking at them that's when they really got nervous. Finally, after watching his two sons squirm under his intensity—an intensity that Heyes knew only too well—he turned on his heels and walked away. William and Charlie stood for a moment and looked at each other. Big sighs and shoulders slumped, they gave up and followed in the wake of their father.

Early morning of The Big Day. Inside the Jordan ranch house.

 

The morning of the 'big day' dawned much the same as any other morning for the 1st of June. By 6 a.m. The household was slowly coming to consciousness and by 6:15 Beth was fully awake and well aware that this was the day she had been waiting for for at least five years—give or take! She was out of bed and wrapped in her housecoat with lots of time to help her mother get coffee going and start breakfast.

“How are you feeling?” Belle asked her younger daughter as she gave her a hug. “You all set for the big day?”

Beth closed her eyes and leaned into her mother, ecstasy being the only way to describe the look on her face. 

“Oh yes, Mama. Finally!” she stated and sent out a quiet prayer; “Please don't let anything go wrong today!”

Belle chuckled and gave her daughter a squeeze. “I'm sure it won't. This is your day sweetheart; enjoy it.”

Jesse joined them in the kitchen, fully dressed and looking for a cup of coffee.

“Is that all you're going to have?” asked his wife. “Coffee?”

“For now,” Jesse answered and leaned in to give his daughter a kiss on the forehead. “I have to get that butchered calf on the spit if we're going have dinner for the gathering tonight. Is Sam here yet?”

“Haven't heard him,” Belle told her husband. “I expect he'll be here soon. Carol is so excited about being a Bride's Maid, I doubt she slept all night.”

Jesse snorted and nodded understanding. “I'll get it started and then come in for breakfast. It's going to be a very interesting day.”

Next to put in an appearance was Bridget with Rosie perched on a hip. Both looked tired.

“Is coffee ready?” Bridget asked her mother. “Rosie was restless all night—I hardly got any sleep.”

“Oh dear,” Belle was consolatory. “Here's a coffee—go sit down at the table. Beth and I can get breakfast going.”

“You're going to be alright for the wedding aren't you?” Beth suddenly looked worried.

“I'll be fine Beth, don't worry,” her older sister assured her. “All I need is coffee and breakfast. Hopefully as soon as she's had something to eat Rosie will decide to sleep through most of the morning Give us all a break!”

Next on the scene came Steven with J.J. in tow. Steven also grabbed a cup of coffee and headed outdoors to give his father-in-law a hand. J.J. yawned widely and got under foot, wanting breakfast. Last but not least upon the morning scene was Clementine. She yawned and still looked drowsy not being a rancher's wife or daughter and finding the early morning rise a little hard to take.

Belle smiled at her and she handed the young lady a cup of coffee. “You going to be alright Clementine?” she asked the family friend.

Clem yawned again, trying to cover it up but not being too successful. “Oh yes,” she said like a trooper. “Just keep the coffee coming and I'll be fine.”

Oatmeal was quickly gotten underway, soon followed by eggs and bacon. Dishes were spread out upon the large dinning table, more coffee poured and everyone settled in to eat while they could.

Bridget held Rosie on her lap and fed her egg from her own plate, but the child was having none of it and continued to squirm and whine. Clem observed all this from her position across from the young mother and again thanked her lucky stars that she was not a parent herself.

“This is getting ridiculous,” Bridget complained. “She's usually such a good little girl. Oh I hope she's not getting sick.”

Belle came forward and put her hand against her grand-daughter's forehead and cheeks and Bridget looked up anxiously, waiting for the informed opinion.

Belle smiled. “I don't think so sweetheart; she's not overly warm,” she assured the young mother. “Has she kept down her food?”

“Yes. But she won't eat now.”

Belle sat down again and went back to her own cup of coffee. “I think she's just stressed out, like the rest of us,” she said. “Changes in the routine are hard on the little ones. They don't understand what is going on—all they know is that everything is in an upheaval and nobody is acting the way they normally do.”

“Are you sure that's all it is?” Bridget asked, hopefully. She shifted the baby around, trying to get comfortable and wishing the child would just settle down.

“I'm quite sure,” Belle reiterated. “Here, let me take for a while so you can finish your breakfast.”

“Oh but Mama—you've got so much to do already!”

“No, it's alright,” Belle insisted as she stood up again and lifted the fidgeting child onto her own shoulder. “Just for a few moments. Perhaps she'll settle.”

Belle slowly paced back and forth gently rubbing the child's back and humming softly to her. Bridget kept an eye on the proceedings but took advantage of her freed up arms and got some breakfast down her throat. After a few moments Rosie did start to calm down and once ten minutes had gone by she gave a big sigh and fell asleep. Bridget wasn't sure if she felt irritated or relieved.

“How did you do that?” she asked quietly. “I tried that; it didn't work.”

Belle smiled as she continued to rub the child's back. “You're feeling the stress of all this preparation as well, so of course Rosie is going to feel it and respond to that.”

“But you're having to deal with just as much....”

“Well, you just need to learn how to detach from all the chaos going on around you,” Belle told her. “You need to be calm and relaxed yourself if you want your baby to settle.”

Beth was watching this whole exchange with a smile playing about her lips. She could remember not so long ago trying to get her baby brother to settle down and go to sleep. She had gotten better over time, but only their mother could settle him on those days when he just wouldn't settle. J.J. was too busy eating his breakfast to be paying much attention to what the 'women folk' were going on about.

“My but she's getting heavy!” Belle observed. “Won't be able to cuddle her like this for very much longer. Let me put her down in the bedroom here. I'll prop her with the pillows so she won't fall off and hopefully she'll sleep for a few hours.”

Bridget gave a sigh of relief. “Thank you Mama.”

“Why don't you lay down and try to sleep as well?” Belle told her daughter. “We've got some time before things start to get really hectic.”

Bridget glanced over at Beth who smiled back at her. “You do look tired,” she informed her sister. “I want you looking good for my wedding.”

Bridget hesitated a moment more, feeling like she was letting the team down but then decided that they were probably right. A few more hours sleep would make all the difference.

“Alright,” she conceded. “Just a quick nap in the other bedroom downstairs here.”

“But that's Jed's room!” Beth was suddenly alarmed; that just seemed like such an intrusion.

Bridget smiled wickedly through her tired eyes. “Not anymore it isn't!” she pointed out. “You'll be staying at the hotel in town tonight and then after that.....!”

Beth giggled, her anxiety instantly forgotten. “Oh yeah,” she said, bringing her hand up to her mouth to cover her shyness. “I forgot.”

Bridget got up from the table and headed towards the second downstairs bedroom. Belle came out of the first one and mother and daughter hugged briefly and then carried on in their own directions. Belle went into the kitchen to get the coffee pot and re-fill her now cold beverage and offered more to Beth and to Clem.

“Well young man,” Belle commented, looking sternly at her son who was about done eating. “How about you go outside to help your father and brother-in-law.”

J.J.'s eyes lit up as he scrambled down from the table. “Yeah!”

“But I want you back in here in a couple of hours for your bath!”

“Yes Mama!”

Clem sensed a private moment was needed between mother and daughter so she pushed herself away from the table and stood up with a stretch.

“I think I'm going to go upstairs and start getting ready myself,” she announced then smiled winningly. “Then I can be of more use when it comes time for the bride.”

She quickly made her retreat and disappeared up the stairs.

Mother and daughter smiled at each other over their coffee's.

“Well Beth,” Belle sighed almost sadly. “Here we are. Your wedding day at last.”

Beth smiled, her whole face lighting up. “Yes! Finally!”

“Are you happy sweetheart?”

“Yes, Mama,” she answered sincerely. “Happier than I've ever been in my whole life.”

Belle reached over and squeezed her daughter's hand. “Well, this is where I would normally tell you what to expect on your wedding night. But you've already beaten me to that.”

Beth smiled widened. “It was just the once,” she assured her mother. “and so long ago now, it seems like a distant dream.”

“I know,” Belle told her. “And because you've waited so long, tonight will still be very special. I know you've chosen well. I'm very proud of you.”

Beth got up and gave her mother a hug. “Thank you Mama!”

“So, if you'll help me clean up the dishes then I'll get started on the baking for today and you, young lady; can start getting ready for your big day!”

“Yes!”

 

Sam arrived in the yard just in time to help Jesse, Steven and J.J. get the fire started—not that J.J. was being much help but at least he was trying. Sam paid special close attention to how the calf was set up since he knew it was going to be falling to him to keep the fire going and the spit turning on a regular basis. Sam was in for a busy day and he knew it! But Jesse was a fair boss and Sam didn't mind giving a bit extra for the big day. Not only was he and his family invited to the festivities but Sam would be getting paid twice his normal income for taking care of the visiting horses and tending the fire.

“Oh Sam!” Jesse sounded relieved to see the young man ride up. “Good. I'm glad you're here. I know there's going to be a lot of extra's today. The horses that are going to be here the longest I suppose you can stripe the harnesses off of them and put them out in the pastures. We also have the two paddocks you can use. Maybe the one's that aren't going to be here for long you can just put in a stall and leave the harness on them. How does that sound?”

“Yessir, Mr. Jordan,” Sam nodded. “I've been running this over in my mind. Don't worry about it, I think I have a good game plan to handle everybody.”

Jesse smiled. “Good man! You're gonna be running your own place before you know it.”

Sam ginned. “Thank you, Mr. Jordan.”

“Is Carol all excited about today?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Oh yes sir! She was all set to come with me now, but I told her there was no point since the ceremony isn't until 1:00. She pouted but saw the sense. She'll be coming in a couple of hours along with the rest of the family.”

“Good,” Jesse agreed. “There wouldn't be too much for her to do right now. She'd just be getting frustrated.”

“Exactly my thinking, sir.”

“Okay.” Jesse clapped his hands together in anticipation. “Let's get this fire going or we're going to have a lot of hungry guests and nothing to feed them.”

Inside the house the enticing aroma of fresh baking was beginning to fill every nook and cranny. Belle was busy keeping the 'conveyer belt' moving so that as soon as one set of pastries or pies was ready to come out of the oven, the next set was waiting to go in. Clem was helping out by keeping the dishes from piling up too quickly and preparing platters to be taken outside. By 10:00 am the whole dinning table was covered with pies and biscuits all waiting to cool before being sliced and used.

Bridget was up and about by this time and was doing all she could to get finger sandwiches made and put on the table outside along with cookies that had been baked the day before. Lemonade and iced tea was also prepared and placed outside with cups and napkins. By the time the first guests began to arrive around 11:00 everything to keep them occupied and content for the next couple of hours was conveniently in place.

Inside the house Beth was still in the process of trying to get a bath. She wanted that part of her toilet completed before too many guests appeared but with all the other hustle and bustle going on it was a challenge. Finally the tub was set up in the spare bedroom and water was brought in from the pump and the stove and she was able to get the deed done.

Then came the problem child.

“J.J.!” Bridget called from the front porch. “C'mon! Come get your bath while the water is still warm!”

“I don't need a bath!” was the usual reply to that request.

“You get in here this minute!” Bridget told him. “We don't have time today for your games. Come on!”

“Best get in there,” Sam told him. “I had to have a quick bath this morning too even though I'm gonna be working in the barns most of the day. And I didn't have the luxury of hot water!”

J.J. frowned and then pouted. “I don't need no stinking bath!” he complained. “Why do they always make me have a bath!”

“Stop your complaining,” Jesse advised him. “Go on—get!”

“C'mon J.J., let's go!!” Bridget was almost stamping her foot.

“J.J....” the father warned.

“Awright,” the boy pouted even more but his Papa was not one to be easily defied and off he ran.

He ran across the yard just as the wagon bringing Sam's family pulled up to the first barn and Sam ran over to grab hold of the team. Maribelle jumped down from the driver's seat just as Jesse offered his hand to Merle to climb down from the passenger side.

Jesse offered her a kiss on the cheek. “Good morning Merle, nice you could make it.”

Merle smiled and patted his arm. “This is a big day, Jesse. Wouldn't miss it for the world.”

“Good morning Mr. Jordan.” Maribelle came over for her kiss.

Jesse gave her the customary greeting as Carol skipped the niceties and ran most unladylike towards the house. Todd headed in the opposite direction to help his father with the team of horses.

“Oh dear,” Maribelle laughed. “She's just so excited she can hardly contain herself.”

“Well that's good,” Jesse approved. “I'm glad she's having a good time.”

“Still she should remember her manners.” Merle felt obligated to be the matron.

“Yes Mother,” Maribelle teased and the two women exchanged laughing looks.

“Come along,” said Merle. “Let's go see if Belle needs a hand. I'm sure she does!”

“You're probably right,” Jesse agreed. “I'll see you ladies later.”

 

The two new arrivals entered the house to be met with the aroma of fresh baking and the loud protests of one certain boy who was being lifted into the tub.

“I don't want a bath!” was the repetitive complaint. “What if they see me!”

“Stop being such a baby!” Bridget told him. “Nobody's going to come in here.”

Just then Merle poked her head into the bedroom. “Good morning Bridget,” she said. “Need a hand with anything?”

J.J. screamed and dunked himself under the water. Bridget sighed and rolled her eyes.

“I can manage in here Mrs. Jefferies,” she said. “If you could just keep an eye on Rosie for me. She's crawling around out there somewhere.”

Merle smiled knowingly. “I can certainly do that.”

“Thank you.”

Suddenly there was a splashing and spluttering of water as J.J. gave up the battle and surfaced for air. Bridget jumped back, complaining as soapy water flew in all directions getting herself and the floor sopping wet!

“Will you just hold still!!” she complained. “You know your baths would only take half the amount of time if you would just do it and stop complaining so much!”

“I don't see why I have to have so many baths anyways!”

“Because you're a boy!” Bridget stated the obvious. “And we all know that boys just have to look at dirt and they get dirty. Now hold still!!”

J.J. finally gave a sigh and relented. Bridget got him scrubbed down and was even able to wash his hair before he decided it was time to get out. He stood up just as his sister was finishing rinsing the soap off him and he climbed out of the tub, dripping water on the already swimming floor.

Bridget groaned as she took the towel to him and started drying him off.

“Why do you always have to make such a mess?” she asked him. “There! Finally that's done. Now you be good today Jesse Junior—you hear me!? Mama and Papa have enough to do without chasing around after you.”

“Don't worry,” J.J. assured her. “I won't get in their way.”

“You better not,” Bridget warned him and smiled as she ruffled his hair. “C'mon, let's get you into your Sunday best...”

J.J. made a face and naked as a jaybird he dashed out of the room and made a bee line for the stairs. Bridget shook her head and followed. She'll never understand her brother. He totally freaks out when Mrs. Jefferies stuck her head in the room while he was having his bath but didn't seem to mind running past a whole house full of women while in his birthday suit! Boys!

Coming out from the bedroom she smiled at her husband who had just returned to the house for something quick to eat. He and Jesse had helped themselves to what was left of the oatmeal and made room for themselves at the table to make a quick job of it. Steven had Rose on his lap and was offering her some oatmeal but she was getting more on her fingers than she was in her mouth.

Bridget came over and wrapped her arms around her husband's neck.

“How is it going?” she asked her two favourite men. “Do we eat tonight?”

Jesse smiled. “It would appear that we will be,” he assured his eldest. “It's in Sam's hands now. If it doesn't work out we can always blame him.”

She gave her husband a kiss on the top of his head. “I asked Mrs. Jefferies to watch her for now if you want to get ready.”

“I know,” Steven assured her. “But your mother needed her in the kitchen so I took the little munchkin over. She seems to have settled a little bit at least.”

“She slept for a couple of hours,” Bridget told him. “I have to get J.J. ready. Could you....?”

“I'll get some food into her,” Steven assured his wife. “I'll give her a bath and get her dressed as well. Then hopefully you can take her over while I get ready.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Bridget agreed and carried on up the stairs to tend to her brother.

Jesse smiled over at the young father trying to get oatmeal into his daughter's mouth.

“I like the way you two support one another with raising your daughter,” Jesse complimented him. “It makes a big difference having both parents take an active part in their childrens' lives.”

Steven smiled over at him. “I like being a father,” he admitted. “so it's not an imposition. I have a feeling that Jed is going to be much the same.”

“Yes.” Jesse sat back with a smile and nursed his second cup of coffee. “Now there's a story worth writing; 'The Life and Times of Jedidiah Curry'! Well—both of them actually. Who would have thought they'd be able to turn their lives around the way they did.”

Steven nodded as he spooned more oatmeal into his daughter's now willing mouth. “When you first approached me to defend Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry I thought you were mad.” the lawyer admitted. “The only reason I took those cases is that I was green behind the ears and didn't know any better.”

“Well, you did a fine job Steven,” Jesse told him.

Steven snorted. “Yeah—right!” he responded derisively. “Heyes ended up in prison and Jed very nearly got hanged. Hardly a shining start for a young lawyer.”

“No, you did very well considering,” Jesse contradicted him. “You stood up to DeFord and that wasn't easy. You did a lot to get Han out after only serving four and a half years of a twenty year sentence, and Jed didn't hang. He's here today and getting all set to marry my daughter. And I couldn't be happier. Both my daughters have chosen well. I just hope Hannibal is able to find his way; the road is still a bit rocky for him.”

Steven nodded as he wiped his daughter's fingers. “I still feel badly about that,” he admitted. “I seem to have let Heyes down at every turn.”

“What do you mean?” Jesse asked him. “In what way?”

“He ended up going to prison and damn near lost his life there,” Steven reminded his father-in-law. “I know we finally got him out but then,” big sigh. “I feel like it's my fault that he and Mrs. Steward are no longer together. I can only imagine what he is going through. How I'd feel if I was forced away from my wife and daughter. I don't know if I'd be able to stand it.”

Jesse sat back for a moment and contemplated the young man sitting across from him. “Yes,” he finally agreed. “It was a hard blow and I must admit that I wasn't sure how he was going to respond to that. I was afraid he was going fall back to being an outlaw again and just simply disappear. To hell with the governor, to hell with the rules. To hell with everything other than what he wanted. But he didn't do it. He stayed the course and I'm proud of him.” Steven nodded but didn't seem too convinced. Jesse smiled. “You mustn't blame yourself for the hardships that Hannibal is facing now. He's led a wild life; sooner or later it was going to come back at him.”

“Yes, I know you're right,” Steven agreed. “I suppose I'm just sorry for the way things turned out.”

“But we don't know how things are going to turn out yet,” Jesse surmised. “Before Mrs. Steward showed up here everyone assumed Hannibal and Miranda would get together.” He shrugged. “So...who knows? He could do a whole lot worse!”

Steven laughed. “Always the optimist aren't you Jesse!”

Jesse shrugged. “Why not?” he asked. “Things can get bad enough on their own without us helping it along. And from what I'm hearing, Hannibal and Miranda are getting along just fine these days. So don't be kicking yourself over 'letting Han down'. He's a master at landing on his own two feet.”

Steven smiled and then nodded acquiescence. His attention was then diverted by Rosie starting to squirm again. She made a face and certain noises and then aroma coming from the area of her diaper caused both men to sit up and take notice.

“Whoa!” Steven waved a hand in front of his face. “Time for a diaper change and then a bath for this little one I think! It's a good thing I wasn't in my good cloths yet. Man o' man!”

“Oh my goodness!” Jesse's eyes were almost watering. “I'd forgotten how good they are at that. Better you than me young man—glad you enjoy being a father!”

“Ha! Yeah, thanks.” Steven pushed away from the table, gathering up his daughter in his tentative arms. “Come along young lady, time for a wash!”

Jesse chuckled and shook his head while Steven disappeared to the upstairs room where he and his family had spent the night. One final gulp of coffee and Jesse also went upstairs to the master bedroom to get himself ready for the big event. It hardly took any time at all for Jesse to get cleaned up and dressed, and once done, he came back downstairs to give his wife a hug and kiss.

She gave a deep cleansing sigh and smiled up at him. “My don't you look dapper,” she said. “All ready to give the bride away?”

“As ready as I'll ever be,” Jesse told her. “This day was bound to come sooner or later.”

“Yes.” Belle's smile turned a little sad. “As much as a mother hopes her children will find a good partner and be happy, it's still hard isn't it? Aww Jesse; both out little girls are all grown up.”

“They sure are,” Jesse agreed and hugged his wife to him again and holding onto her this time. “We did alright though, didn't we? They've both grown into fine young ladies.”

“Yes they have.” Belle agreed and pushing herself off her husband's chest, she wiped a little tear from her eye. “I'm so proud of them. Both of them!”

Jesse cupped her face in his hand and looked into her eyes. She smiled up at him and gave him a pat on the chest.

“I'm fine!” she assured him. “You best get out there and greet our guests. Most of them will be coming right around now.”

“Yes ma'am,” he agreed and turned to go.

“Oh wait!” Belle stopped him and she stepped into the pantry for a moment to return with his boutonniere. She reached up and pinned it to his lapel. “Can't have the father of the bride not wear his boutonniere—that wouldn't be proper.”

“So that's where you've been keeping all the flowers!” Jesse observed.

“Coolest place in the house!” Belle laughed. “There you are. All set. I'll see you later.”

Jesse nodded and with another quick kiss on her cheek he turned and walked out the front door just in time to see the Reece family drive into the yard.

He headed over to them just as Sam ran out to grab hold of the team while Kenny climbed down from the driver's seat. The three boys jumped down and Joe turned to assist his mother. He then grabbed his little sister around the waist and swung her around to her great delight and wild laughter to land daintily on the ground beside Sarah.

“There you go,” Joe told her. “You behave today little lady. Don't want to get your pretty dress all dirty.”

“I won't!” she insisted, feeling insulted that her big brother would think her so irresponsible. “Is J.J. around?”

“He's up at the house getting ready,” Jesse informed her. “I'm sure he'll be happy to come out and play with you.” He tipped his head to her mother. “Mrs. Reece. Nice to see you again. And Mr. Reece. Glad you could all make it.”

“Yes,” Kenny and Jesse shook hands. “I was fortunate to be able to arrange the time off. Heyes tells me you raise some very fine horses here and I was hoping to perhaps get a look at them. Not today of course, but....”

Jesse smiled with some pride. “Of course! I always appreciate a man who appreciates a fine horse.”

“My family raised horses down south before the war,” Kenny informed him. “I like to think I still have an eye.”

“Well, if you're going to be in town for a few days perhaps Hannibal can take you up to the back pasture tomorrow. We have a fine bachelor herd up there this spring including the colt I'm hoping will be our new foundation sire.”

“Sounds like a plan, thank you.”

“Ah dear,” Sarah placed a hand on her husband's arm to get his attention away from talking horses. “I'm going to go into the house and see if they need any help.”

“Alright,” Kenny nodded. “I'll see you later.”

“Come along Evelyn!” Sarah called her daughter. “You come with me.”

“But I wanna play!”

“J.J.'s in the house,” Sarah reminded her. “You can play in there. Besides don't you want to see the wedding dress?”

“Oh yes!” Evelyn's eyes lit up. “And I must give my congratulations to the bride!”

Her voiced trailed off as the two ladies made their way towards the ranch house. Jesse and Kenny exchanged smiles at the young lady's use of such grown-up language.

“I swear,” Jesse commented. “It was only last month that Beth was that age. It goes by so fast.”

Kenny nodded agreement just as another wagon full of guests clattered into the yard. It was the Johnston family who owned the neighbouring ranch. Their five daughters screamed and laughed and giggled until the wagon came to a halt and then the two older ones spotted Kenny's three boys. Their eyes lit up and they waved over at them, the younger of the two apparently being quite the flirt.

“Oh my,” Jesse commented. “What a handful old Fred has with that group.”

“I can imagine!” Kenny agreed and sent a cautionary look over to his boys. “You fellas behave yourselves now, you hear me.”

“Sure Pa!” Joe obliged with a smile. “I'm gonna go check out the food. It looks good even from here!”

“Charlie? You hear me?” Kenny caught his middle son's attention.

Charlie stopped waving at the ladies and dropped his smile. “Of course Pa. Just being friendly.”

“That's fine,” Kenny told him. “But I want you and William to keep an eye on your sister. You know what she can be like.”

This was met with slumped shoulders and loud groans.

“Why do we always have to keep an eye on her?” Charlie complained, after all how was he going to get know that oldest girl over there if he had his sister in tow. “Why can't Joe do it for a change?”

“Because Joe has already put in his time keeping an eye on you,” Kenny pointed out. “I am hoping that you are now old enough to handle that responsibility yourself.”

“Yes Pa.”

“Good. William?”

“Yes Pa.”

“Alright. Off you go.” He gave them permission to enjoy themselves. “Eve's with her mother right now, but once she comes outside again you two keep an eye on her.”

The two boys quickly escaped before their father could saddle them with even more responsibilities and followed their older brother over to the refreshment table. The oldest Johnston girl seemed to have the same idea.

 

Sarah and Evelyn entered into the house just as J.J. was coming down the stairs, pulling disgustedly at his bow tie in the hopes of loosening it's strangle hold around his throat. He smiled as soon as he spied his new friend and jumped down the last five steps to land heavily in front of her.

“Finally! Somebody fun is here!” he announced. “You wanna go play?”

“I want to see the bride's dress first!” Evelyn insisted.

J.J. screwed up his face in disgust. “The bride's dress!?” he repeated. “Who cares about that? That's for girls!”

“Well I am a girl!” Eve pointed out. “And I want to see it!”

“It's going to be a while yet before Beth is ready Evelyn,” Bridget assured her as she came down the stairs a little more sedately than her brother. “Why don't you go out and play and we'll call you when she's ready.”

“Is that alright Mama?” she politely asked her mother. “Can J.J. and I go outside to play?”

“Yes alright.” Then she sighed with a hint of resignation. “But please try to stay clean.”

“Of course!”

Sarah rolled her eyes as Belle came forward to greet her.

“Why do I think I'm going to regret this?” Sarah asked her hostess. “That girl is such a tomboy these days!”

Belle laughed. “Don't worry about it. So were mine! They out-grow it.”

“Good!” Sarah laughed. “She can be such a little lady and then she'll do a complete flip flop and I'm certain I have a forth boy in disguise!”

“That's not surprising!” Belle stated. “Considering she has three older brothers to show her the way!”

“Good point,” Sarah agreed and looked around at the going's on. “Are you very busy?”

“Not at the moment,” Belle stated, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “Clementine is just doing Beth's hair....” She was interrupted by a discreet knock at the door.

There was followed a little scream coming from the kitchen table and the two women looked over where Beth, Clem and Carol were holding down the table.

“If that's Jed, he can't come it!” Beth insisted.

“You're not in your dress yet, dear,” Belle reminded her.

“I don't care! He can't see me before the wedding!”

“Alright, alright,” Belle appeased her daughter but smiled and shook her head at Sarah as she went to the front door and opened it a crack. “Oh, Reverend Sikes! Yes, please do come in.”

The Reverend stepped through the opened doorway and nodded his greeting to the gathering. 

“I just thought I would let you know that I've arrived,” he told them. “How are you holding up Beth?”

Beth gave an exasperated sigh but smiled anyways and nodded. “Fine, I suppose. I'm just so nervous that something is going to go wrong!”

“Well something will go wrong if you don't sit still!” Clementine complained as she continued to work on Beth's hair. “French braids have to be straight as a pin for them to look really nice—so stop jumping around like a roulette ball on the spin!”

The Reverend smiled at the young lady's odd analogy but decided to leave it alone.

“Is Jed here yet?” Beth asked all anxious. “Aren't they suppose to be here by now? What if something happened to them on the road? What if he's decided he doesn't want to get married after all? What if they're already heading for Mexico?”

“Oh stop it!” Clem chided her, not being one to put up with nonsense. “Kid's had plenty of time to change his mind if he was going to. Besides, if he tried that now Heyes would probably kill him.”

Beth's eyes widen with angst! “Oh no! I never thought of that,” she wailed. “Do you really think Joshua would do....!”

“STOP IT!” Clem shook her shoulders. “Everything is going to be fine. Just sit still so I can get this braid done!”

Belle sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes at the reverend. “Oh dear,” she mumbled. “I always forget about the theatrics!”

“It's quite normal,” the Reverend Sikes assured her. “just young bride nerves.”

“Yes I know,” Belle smiled at him. “I've been through this once already with Bridget. We'll survive.”

“Oh please!” Bridget complained. “I was never that bad!”

“No, you were worse,” said Steven as he came down the stairs with his daughter in arms. “but we both survived and it's still the best day of my life. Short of having this little one come into it that is.”

Bridget smiled at the sight of her handsome husband in his fine suit and the smile broadened when she looked upon little Rosie all clean and sparkling in her little white and peach dress.

“Well just look at this handsome couple,” Belle complimented them and came forward to take her grand daughter into a gentle hug. Rosie laughed happily and played with the buttons on Belle's blouse.

“Aren't you the prettiest little girl!” Sarah commented. “You're going to be stealing the show out there if we're not careful.”

“She better not,” Beth grumbled and Clem gave her a slap across the back of the head. “Ouch!”

“Well I will leave you ladies to it,” Reverend Sikes put in. “I'll be right out here on the front porch enjoying some of that nice iced tea. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you Reverend.” Belle smiled. “I think we're alright.”

“Fine.”

“That sounds like a good idea Reverend!” Steven made moves to join him. “I think I'm going to just be getting under foot in here.”

“Wise decision young man.”

The two gentlemen left the scene and Bridget came up to her mother.

“I'll take her Momma, if you want to go get ready,” the young mother offered. “We still have to get Beth into the dress and 1:00 will be here before we know it.”

“Thank you.” Grand-daughter was passed from grandmother to mother. “I think you're right. It's already past 11:00! My goodness—where has the morning gone!

Belle made a hasty retreat upstairs to tend to her wedding attire as Merle went by with another tray load of sandwiches and finger cakes for the outside table. All those young men out there were making short work of the tasty appetizers. Right behind her came Maribelle loaded down with a large pitcher of iced tea. Gotta keep the troops happy or they might have a rebellion on their hands!

Bridget sat down at the table with Rosie just as Clem stuck one more hair pin into Beth's chignon.

“There!” she announced triumphantly. “Perfect!”

“Is it?” Beth asked and her hand came back to feel it.

Clem slapped her away. “Don't touch it!” she exclaimed. “Just leave it alone—it looks perfect.”

“Does it look nice?” Beth asked her sister with pleading eyes.

Bridget stood up and came around behind Beth then sat back down again, bouncing Rosie on her knee. “It looks very nice Beth.” she soothed her sister. “Just don't touch it.”

Carol smiled at her friend. “You look really pretty Beth,” she said, almost enviously.

“I want to see it!” Beth complained.

“Just wait until we're done,” Clem insisted. “Where did your mother put the floral hair comb I made for you?”

“I don't know!” Beth was almost in a panic again.

“It's probably in the pantry with all the other flowers,” Bridget informed them with a tone of exasperation. “I swear, I couldn't have been this bad on my wedding day.”

Beth sent her sister a scathing look.

Clem disappeared for a couple of minutes then returned with the hair comb nicely decorated with the smaller spring flowers that were left over from making the various bouquets and boutonnieres. She placed it squarely on the back of Beth's head and tucked the teeth into the braids to hold it secure.

“There,” she announced. “the perfect touch. Carol could you get those two hand mirrors over there?”

'Sure!” Carol was pleased to be given something to do and she quickly retrieved the items and gave one to Beth and the other to Clem. She sat back down again and gazed admiringly at her friend.

Beth held the mirror up and angled it so she could see her refection in the mirror that Clem was holding. She gasped with pleasure and her hand went back to touch it again. 

Clem slapped it away. “Don't touch it!”

“Oh it's beautiful Clementine! Thank you.” Beth almost looked like she was goin to start crying. “But nobody's going to see it once I have the veil on.” 

“The veil's only for the ceremony,” Clem pointed out. “After that you can take it off and then you'll have this beautiful doo to show off.”

“Do you think Jed will like it?” she asked hopefully.

Clem rolled her eyes. “Honey you could be wearing a burlap sack with bailing twine in your hair and he'd like it. Stop worrying.”

Merle and Maribelle returned carrying empty trays and pitchers just as Belle came downstairs doing some last minute tidying of her own hair as she came.

“Alright, come along Beth! It's your turn.” she announced as she approached the table.

Beth almost squealed in her excited delight and she was up and jumping around to show her mother the hair doo.

“How does it look Mama?”

“Oh Clementine, that's beautiful,” Belle congratulated her. “You certainly do have a flare for these thing.”

“Oh thank you,” Clem actually beamed with pleasure. “I don't know where I got it from since I never had anyone to show me, but yes they do tend to turn out quite nicely.”

“I'll say,” Belle reiterated. “Very nice. Alright sweetheart; let's get you over here by the full-length mirror. I'll get the dress.”

Everyone made the move into the sitting room and Beth quickly removed her housecoat and stood there in her bloomers and waited in anticipation for the arrival of 'the dress'! They could all hear the rustling in the master bedroom upstairs and within moments Belle came down with the white and yellow gown in her arms. Beth actually started to cry even though she was trying so hard not to. What would Jed think if she came out there all red and puffy!?

“Oh sweetheart, don't cry,” Belle cautioned her. “You look so pretty, there's no need to cry.”

“I'm just so happy,” Beth said through a sniffle. “I can't believe it's finally here.”

“Here, Clementine. Can you help me lift the skirt up over her head?” Belle asked her.

“Sure!” Clem came forward and very carefully the two women manoeuvred the dress over Beth's head, being very careful not to get it hooked up on her hair doo.

“Let me get my arms in...” came Beth's muffled voice from inside the gown. “Arg! I can't find the other sleeve hole.”

“Here it is!” said Clem as she straightened out the sleeve and groped around for Beth's hand through the material. “Where's your hand? Give me your hand.”

“Where are you?” Beth struggled inside the dress to try and find her way. “Oh there you are!”

“There,” said Clem. “There's the sleeve hole, where's your hand? There, just push it through.”

“Carefully now,” Belle cautioned. “Don't tear the material.”

Finally Beth had both arms in the sleeves and the rest of the dress fell into place without a single hair on her head being displaced. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

Belle started to do up the long line of buttons that ran up the back while Beth and Clem admired the reflection in the mirror.

“It really looks nice on you Beth,” Bridget complimented her sister while she continued to placate the baby. “I think it fits you even better than it fit me.”

“Do you really think so?” Beth asked quietly as she ran her hands reverently down the soft satin material. “It's so pretty.”

“Hello! Where is everyone!?”

“We're in the sitting room Miranda!” Bridget informed her.

Miranda came around the corner and smiled at the excited bride.

“Oh you're finally here!” Beth exclaimed. “Thank goodness!”

Miranda laughed, knowing full well where her excitement was coming form. “Yes we're here! Jed's in the front yard with Hannibal. You really didn't think he was going to miss this did you?”

“Well, I was getting worried,” Beth admitted in a small voice. “He's really here?”

“Yes, he's here,” Miranda assured her again. “And looking very handsome if I might say so myself.”

“There we are,” Belle announced. “All done up. How does it feel?”

“Wonderful!”

“Good.” Belle gave her daughter a hug. “We won't put the veil on until we're ready to go, but we should probably get the shoes—now where did I put them?”

Suddenly Beth caught her breath and her hand shot to the neckline of the dress. “The brooch!” she exclaimed.

“What?”

“Great Grandma's brooch!” Beth clarified. “I wanted to wear it today! Oh no—where did I put it!?”

Tricia walked into the middle of this minor catastrophe and thought something major had happened.

“What's the matter!?” she asked. “What have you lost!?”

“My Great Grandma's brooch!” Beth wailed. “I need to wear that today! I have to find it!”

“Calm down sweetheart,” Belle tried to sooth her over-stressed daughter. “It's probably upstairs in your jewelry box.”

Hope sprang eternal. “Oh yes! I'm sure you're right!” and Beth made a move towards the staircase.

“Oh no you don't, Missy!” Belle grabbed her arm and stopped her.

“But Moma!”

“I'll go look for it,” Belle told her. “The last thing we need is you running up and down those stairs with that dress on. You'd probably end up breaking your neck. Just relax, sweetheart; we'll find it.”

“I'll come help you look,” Maribelle offered and followed Belle upstairs.

“I'll check the rooms down here,” Merle told the group. “Come along Carol. You can help too.”

“Yes, grandma!” Carol jumped up and went on the prowl in earnest.

The various different search parties could be heard rummaging around in the various different rooms of the large house Drawers were being pulled open, closets being scrutinized and every nook and cranny peered into but nobody was coming up with the desired piece of jewelry.

Beth began to pace back and forth, her hand up to her mouth with young bride angst while the ladies staying in the vicinity tried to keep her calm.

“It's not the end of the day,” Clem commented wisely. “It's not like you have to have it.”

“But it's important!” Beth insisted. “It's a family heirloom and I wanted to wear it on my wedding day!”

“But you've got Mama's earrings!” Bridget reminded her. “Papa gave her those on their wedding day. Isn't that enough?”

“NO!” Beth literally stamped her foot. “I want the brooch! I put it someplace where it would be safe! Oh if only I could remember where that was!”

Belle and Maribelle started down the stairs and Beth ran to the base and looked up at them hopefully.

Belle shook her head. “It's not up here sweetheart,” she told her daughter. “Perhaps if you just calm down you'll remember where it is.”

Beth huffed in frustration and was about to start pulling on her hair when Clem jumped up and grabbed her arms.

“DON'T YOU DARE!” she exclaimed. “I don't care how bad things get—stay away from my french braid!”

Merle and Carol stepped back out to the living room also shaking their heads. No luck. Beth was practically whining in her frustration.

Belle sighed. “I'll put some tea on,” she informed the lot. “Amy gave me some of that Chamomile to help calm the nerves. She seemed to think that we just might be needing it today and I think she was right.”

The front door opened and Jed's voice gave warning of his imminent entrance.

“How's it going in......?”

Beth screamed and ran for cover! Wild cries of distress filled the front room as Maribelle, Clementine and Miranda all made a concentrated rush at the door! All Clem saw was a pair of surprised blue eyes as she pushed Jed back outside the doorway and the three ladies all had a hand in slamming the door in his face.

“Hey! What in tarnation...!?” came as a muffled protest from the front porch.

“Oh my God!” Beth was almost in hysterics! “Did he see me!? Did he see me!? OH NO! What if he saw me!?”

“I don't think he saw you,” Clem assured her young friend.

“I'm quite sure he didn't!” Belle was almost laughing at the absurdity of it all. “You ran so fast out of his line of sight even if he did catch a glimpse it would have been a white blur.”

“Ohh! Are you sure?” Beth started to calm down, one hand over her mouth, the other pressed against her heaving chest. “It's bad enough that I can't find the broach but if Jed had seen me right before the ceremony—that would have been a catastrophe!”

“Nothing we couldn't have handled I'm sure,” Belle stated and exchanged a humorous glance with Merle. “Now for that tea.”

Merle joined Belle in the kitchen while the other ladies settled into various seated positions, everyone being very careful with the wedding gown to ensure it didn't get wrinkled or (gasp!) torn from any mishap. Beth had calmed down by the time the tea arrived but she still looked worried and was not prepared yet to allow her mind to focus on what she had done with the broach.

“Here we are,” Merle announced. “some nice tea to calm everyone down and here's some sandwiches as well. I'm sure some of you are hungry.”

Everyone but Beth helped themselves to sandwiches but the bride was too stressed to even think about food.

“Here, sweetheart,” Belle approached her daughter and wrapped a full size apron around her before handing her a cup of tea. “Just to be safe..”

“Oh yes.” Beth sighed with relief. “Thank you Mama.”

“Drink your tea and settle down,” Belle suggested. “We still have time before the ceremony is due to start. Everybody's all ready.”

Beth nodded and settled back in her chair to sip the hot beverage. She slowly began to calm down.

Merle headed outdoors with yet another tray full of appetizers for the growing crowd out in the yard and Carol dutifully followed with more liquid refreshments. They returned to the inside gathering just as Belle and Beth were deep in conversation over the whereabouts of the family heirloom.

“I saw you with it last night, after most of the guests had gone home,” Belle prodded her daughter. “So just relax and think; what did you do with it after that?”

Beth sat with her brow creased as her thoughts focused inwards. She shook her head. “I don't know. I can't think.”

“What did you do with your other gifts?” Clem asked her.

“We put them in Jed's room,” Beth answered. “There is more room in his closet.”

“Did you put the broach with them?” Clem realized that was too obvious, but it might get the bride's mind more focused.

“No!” Beth insisted. “I didn't want to leave it with everything else. I put it someplace 'safe'!”

“Just relax,” Belle repeated. “Think about it. You had the broach in your hand last night. Think about where you went after that.”

Beth was biting her lower lip in concentration. “I went upstairs.” She said, thinking hard. “What did I do with it....?” A sudden brightness, a small intake of breath. “I went into your room Mama. Then what? What did I do?” Big intake of breath—brown eyes wide as pools! “The shoe box! I put it in with the shoes!”

“In the trunk?” Belle clarified.

“Yes!” Beth almost spilled her tea in her excitement. “Yes, yes yes!! It's in with the shoes!”

“Alright, just settle down!” Belle told her. “We know where it is now.”

“Oh but I must make sure...!”

“Stay seated!” Belle instructed her. “You're not going up those stairs. I'll go see if it's there.”

Belle set her own teacup down on the side table and made a second trip up the stairs and into her own bedroom. Within seconds she was heading back down again with the shoebox in her hands and a smile on her face.

“That's where it was alright,” she announced. “Right where we would have eventually found it anyways.”

“Oh thank goodness.” Beth truly breathed a sigh of relief this time and was able to settle in then and really enjoy her tea.

The ladies sat quietly and enjoyed their respite from the busy day while engaging in idle chatter to help keep the nerves calm.

Finally though Belle realized that it was time to get the final preparations happening and forced herself to get to her feet.

“I'd better find J.J.,” she announced with a feeling of dread. “I hope he's kept himself cleanish or he'll be in for another bath!”

“I think we can say that about all the boys!” Tricia commented. “David better be keeping an eye on our little rascal.”

Belle smiled and went to the front door. She'd just stepped out when a nun and a small child were coming up the stairs and the two ladies acknowledged one another. Belle smiled, having a pretty good idea who this was but she was on a mission so she indicated for the two guests to carry on into the house without her.

As soon as Sister Julia and Sally came into the sitting room, Sally ran over to her long lost friend, Carol and the two girls hugged.

“Finally!” little Sally exclaimed. “Somebody I know!”

“It's so good to see you!” Carol told her. “I didn't know you were coming.”

“Sister Julia said it would be alright,” said Sally in way of explanation. “Why haven't you written!? We've all been wanting to know what it was like!”

“I'm sorry,” Carol was truly apologetic. “I've just been so busy. But it's great,” she said, taking her friend by the hand and leading her away from the adults. Her voice could be heard trailing away as they disappeared into a spare room. “The only bad thing is you can't get away with anything. At the orphanage, there's so many of us that you can hide in the crowd, but not here! There's two of them and two of us.....”

Sally's excited laughter echoed out from behind the closed door.

“Sister Julia!” Beth greeted her friend as the two girls disappeared. “How wonderful to see you!”

Beth stood up, removing her apron and the two ladies hugged.

“I wouldn't miss this for the world!” the Sister insisted. “Look at you!” she exclaimed as she held Beth at arm's length. “What a beautiful bride! Thaddeus is a very lucky man.”

Beth blushed just a little and smiled with pleasure.

“Oh Mama!” Beth perked up as Belle returned into the house. “This is Sister Julia. This is my mother, Belle Jordan.”

“Mrs. Jordan,” Sister Julia greeted her and the two ladies embraced. “How wonderful to finally meet you.”

“And you! But please, call me Belle,” the hostess insisted. “I was hoping to get the opportunity to thank you personally for taking our wayward daughter under your wing.”

“Yes!” Sister Julia laughed and both women sent humorous looks over to the bride. “She's a very tenacious young lady.”

“Ohh! You have no idea!” Belle agreed. “She and Thaddeus are going to have some challenges ahead of them.”

“Mama!”

“Oh you'll be fine dear!” her mother assured her. “Sister, would you like a cup of tea? We've already had ours, though I'm sure some of us wouldn't say no to another.”

“Oh no thank you,” Julia declined. “I have already taken refreshment outside. I just wanted to come in and see how things were going. Thaddeus is a little anxious.”

“He is?” Beth was suddenly worried all over again. “Is he changing his mind? Does he not want to go through with it!?”

This question was met with groans and eye rolling from just about everyone in the room.

“He's fine!” Clem insisted. “My goodness! Talk about creating problems where there aren't any!”

Then it was that Jesse came through the front door with a sack of potatoes slung over his shoulder that looked disquieting like his son. There were gasps around the room as Jesse set the lad onto his feet and then pandemonium broke out. J.J. spotted his favourite sister and made a run towards her, looking for sympathy and protection! Beth took one look at his wet and muddy hands that were reaching for her dress and she panicked! Her eyes bugged and she screamed, trying to scramble out of his way.

“NO! Get away from me!!” she demanded as he reached little boy hands towards her, splashing little muddy droplets of water onto the front of her dress. “OH NO! No, no! Go away!”

J.J. stopped in his tracks and his lower lip stated to wobble. “I just want a hug!”

“No you don't young man!” Belle grabbed her son by the arm to avoid a disaster but it was all too late as far as Beth was concerned.

The tears started to flow in earnest. “No! Look what you've done! You've ruined everything!”

J.J. started to cry as well; all he'd wanted was a hug from his sister.

“Come along!” Belle told him. “Into the other room and get those clothes off! It's into the tub again with you, young man....Oh my gracious!”

Everyone followed Belle's gaze to the front door as Nathan, Todd and then Evelyn put in an appearance; Evelyn actually dripping muddy water onto the floor. A wail went up from the numerous mother's in the group and everybody was on the move at one. Rosie started to cry.

“Oh no! What am I going to do!?” Beth was wailing her distress.

Sister Julia was quick to get in on the act and taking Beth by the hand, the nun bustled the bride into the kitchen to deal with the disaster.

“Can we get it out?” she was practically pleading while at the same time trying to staunch her tears.

“Yes, I think so,” Sister Julia assured her. “It's really not that bad and barely noticeable as it is. Where does your mother keep her baking soda?”

Beth was starting to calm down for the umpteenth time that day as she reached up and opened a cupboard above the counter. “Here it is.”

“Good. Now you sit down and put this tea-towel under your dress right where the splatters are.”

Beth did as she was told, taking comfort from her wise friend who always seemed to know what to do in an emergency.

 

In the front room all mothers had come forth to claim their particular miscreant. Tricia and Maribelle each grabbed a son and hustled them into the bedroom after J.J. If it took putting all three of them into the tub at once then that's what was gonna happen. None of the boys seemed pleased.

Sarah came forward to take hold of her daughter and drag her off into the kitchen. Evelyn was crying now too, rubbing dirty hands against eyes to wipe away tears, the whole time insisting that 'They didn't mean to!'

They entered the kitchen just as the Sister was sprinkling baking soda onto the spatters and Beth's eyes widen in distress as the sight of another dirty child coming her way.

“Don't worry Beth,” Sarah assured her. “I'll keep Eve over here. You hear me Evelyn? You stay away from Beth and her white dress. You don't want to get her all dirty now do you?”

“No,” Evelyn whimpered.

“Good!” her mother agreed. “Now get that dress off while I get some hot water going. I have a feeling we're going to be needing a lot of it!”

Miranda put in an appearance then and started rummaging around for aprons.

“Oh what a good idea!” Sarah exclaimed. “Is there one in there for me? I'd hate to get my own dress all wet and dirty because of this!”

Miranda smiled and nodded. “Yes, here you go. Oh good! You're getting water going. At least the stove is still warm from making tea!”

She grabbed as many more aprons as she could lay her hands on and made her exit.

In the bedroom that was doing double duty as the bath room, Jesse had followed the horde in there to give a hand, taking his suit jacket off as he went. Right behind him, David and Sam put in an appearance and didn't need to be told which way to go.

Miranda was right behind them and handed out aprons to the various adults who were dealing with this new event. The aprons were adorned and little, complaining boys were striped down and their clothes toss aside in the corner.

“There's hot water on the go!” Miranda announced. “How about if me and Clementine start washing clothes in the kitchen.”

“Oh thank you Randa!” Belle exclaimed. “In the mean time, Jesse could you just get buckets of water from the pump? If they can play in the creek, they can handle a cold water bath!”

“I don't want another bath!” Nathan wailed while Tricia tried manoeuvring him into the tub.

David came to her assistance while Sam went to help Jesse haul buckets of water from the pump. As soon as they had hot water ready then it could be added to the bath, but in the mean time they were just going to have to shiver. Fortunately the three boys were out-numbered by adults and it wasn't long before they'd all been scooped up and plunked into the cool murky water that was still left over from the morning baths of a couple of hours ago. Complaints were running high but nobody was listening to them.

Randa and Clementine made sure to wrap themselves in the remaining aprons and then gathered up the soiled clothing to be taken into the kitchen. They stepped aside as Jesse and Sam exited the kitchen with arm fulls of water and then set themselves up to start laundry duty. Carol and Sally were also in the kitchen by this time, wondering what all the commotion was about and generally trying to stay out of the way, but still too curious to leave.

Beth nearly had another melt-down when she saw the armfuls of dirty clothes heading her way. Sister Julia quickly bustled her out of the kitchen so that they could continue dabbing at the wet splotches in the safety of the sitting room.

Bridget was sitting with Merle, trying to get Rosie to settle down and eventually the scene in the front room at least became a little more sedate.

Bridget passed her daughter over to Merle and came to sit beside her sister who was still trying to recover from this latest set back. She reached over and gave Beth a hug.

“It's alright Beth,” she assured her. “Every wedding has little unexpected things happen. You and Jed will be laughing about this tomorrow.”

“Oh I don't know about that!” Beth contradicted as she watched Julia continue to dab at the spots. “Are they coming out?”

“Yes they are,” the Sister assured her. “They were quite light to begin with and the soda is indeed soaking it up. It will also help to whiten what little bit of stain we may not get out. Then, once the little girl is out of the kitchen you can stand by the stove and dry it out. Not too close though!” She laughed. “Last thing we need now is for your dress to catch fire!”

Beth groaned. Bridget took her sister's hand and gently kissed it.

“It'll be fine. Just relax, you'll see.”

“But it must be almost time for the ceremony,” Beth complained. “What if they go on without me!?”

Bridget and Julia exchanged smiles. 

“They're hardly going to go on without the bride, my dear,” Julia pointed out. “This is your day and they're just going to have to wait until you're ready.”

“Oh! Yes of course,” Beth almost chuckled. “Shows you how rattled I am to think such a silly thing!”

“That's alright,” said Bridget. “You're the bride—you're allowed to be rattled.”

Jesse and Sam returned to the kitchen to get hot water this time. They manoeuvred around the ladies at the sink and took what they could of the water while still leaving enough for the clothes to get scrubbed and rinsed. More pots were put on the stove to heat up.

Miranda and Clem were kept busy scrubbing the various articles of clothing while Sarah had Evelyn sitting in a wash tub on the floor and giving her a scrubbing from head to toe. Most of the boys' clothing could be cleaned up without the items being totally submerged in the water—just the dirty spots and splashes getting scrubbed with the hand brush. Then they were rinsed, shaken out and draped over anything in front of the hot stove to hopefully dry out enough to be worn again.

Unfortunately Evelyn's dress was declared a write off as far as the wedding day went. But fortunately, Sarah who had been here and done this before with three boys, had the foresight to bring along a spare dress for her youngest, just in case the unthinkable happened! Evelyn was upset that she didn't get to wear her favourite dress but nobody seemed to be giving her too much sympathy.

Sister Julia finished up dabbing at Beth's dress and finally nodded with satisfaction. “There you go young lady. Perfect.”

“Oh thank you Sister!” Beth breathed a sigh of relief. “Brothers!” she exclaimed with a roll of her eyes. “I love him to pieces—but sometimes....!”

Sister Julia smiled and patted her knee. “I know.” She stood up and gave a cleansing sigh. “Well, I told your young man that I would come in and check up on you and report back to him so I suppose I should go and do that.”

Beth grabbed her hand and sent her a heartfelt plea. “Please don't tell him about all this! I'd hate for him to see me in this state! Are my eyes all red from crying!?”

“They're not too bad,” the Sister lied smoothly. “A little bit of powder on your cheeks, and perhaps before you do that, place a warm wet cloth over your eyes until it's time. You'll feel much better then.”

“Thank you Sister.” Beth smiled up at her. “I don't know what I would have done without you!”

Julia smiled and looked around for her wayward charge. “Sally? Come on dear, we need to get out from underfoot!”

“Oh! Can't I just stay and visit with Carol for a bit?” the little lady asked nicely. “I'll leave before it starts.”

“Well...”

“Don't worry Sister,” Sarah told her as she came out of the make-shift bathroom, her hands trying to quickly re-adjust her hair. “I'll make sure she's out of here in time.”

Julia smiled. “Alright,” she agreed then pointed a finger at Sally. “You just make sure you behave and come outside when you're told.”

Sally smiled widely. “Yes Sister!”

Then she and Carol disappeared into the bedroom under the stairs so they could continue on with bringing each other up to date!

Slowly but surely the catastrophe of the muddy children began to work itself out. The boys were heaved out of the tub and quickly rubbed down and dried off. Their clothing was returned to the room and re-adorned amidst much moaning and groaning and complaining.

“My shirt's still wet!”

“My socks are sticking to me”

“Ohh! Not the bow tie again! It's wet!”

“Too bad!”

“Get over it!

“Suck it up!”

“Come on,” David told his off-spring. “Stop your complaining. It's a warm day out there, damp clothes aren't going to kill you.”

“But it feels funny,” Nathan whined. “Why do I have to wear this?”

“Because it's your Uncle Jed's wedding and everyone has to look their best,” David once again explained to him. Then he leaned in and whispered in his son's ear. “You think I like getting all dressed up like this? But it pleases your mother so do it just for now, alright? Do it for her.”

The two sets of brown eyes locked on and Nathan glanced over at his mother and he slumped his shoulders and shuffled his feet.

“Alwight,” he mumbled.

“Good man.” David stood up and ruffled his son's hair.

“Come over here.” Tricia pulled Nathan towards her and gave his hair a quick brushing through. “There, now at least you're looking like a little gentleman again.” She tugged at his tie and brushed off his jacket. Nathan squirmed.

J.J. was getting much the same treatment from his parents only more so. He was actually going to be in the wedding party so Belle was going over-board to make sure he looked his finest. J.J. himself was very uncomfortable. Every article of clothing from his bow tie to his underwear were still damp and he was letting everyone know that he wasn't happy about it. Unfortunately for him, everybody was also letting him know that they didn't care.

“Come along,” Belle told him as she grabbed his arm and practically had to drag him out of the 'bath room'. “We need to get your boutonniere pinned on, then you'll be all ready to go.”

“I don't want to!”

Jesse leaned down and gave him a light smack on the bum. “Get going! Enough of this nonsense!”

Revered Sikes discreetly let himself in the front door just as Belle was dragging a reluctant J.J. towards the pantry. She looked over and smiled at him.

“We won't be much longer Reverend!” she assured him. “Just a minor disaster to deal with, but we're almost ready.”

“Minor to you!” Beth complained as she removed the damp cloth from her eyes. “What if Jed takes one look at me and heads for the hills!?”

Clementine gave her a playful slap on the wrist. “Don't be such a ninny! I've got some creme we can put around your eyes to cover up the redness and then some more powder and you'll be fine!”

“But Sister Julia said my eyes don't look very red!” Beth exclaimed, suddenly getting anxious again.

“NO—not very!” Clementine lied just as smoothly as the Sister had. “But the creme will hide what little red there is!”

“Oh. Alright. Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

The Reverend smiled. “Well I can see you have things all under control.” It seemed to be the day for telling lies. “Mr. Jordan, if you could just give me a signal when you're ready to begin.”

“Certainly Reverend,” Jesse agreed. “I really do believe we're close.”

“Fine. I'll watch for your signal.” The Reverend quickly departed, confident that events were moving along as well as could be expected.

Steven put in another appearance just as the Reverend was leaving. He took a quick look around the living room until he spied his daughter playing contentedly by herself on the floor. He strode over and scooped her up in his arms and with a quick smile over to his wife, made his exit to join the rest of their friends back out in the yard.

Maribelle emerged from the bathroom with Todd all cleaned up just as J.J. emerged from the kitchen area, looking very self-conscious with his little boutonniere pinned in place. It just wasn't right that a boy should have to wear flowers! The only consolation was that his Papa was wearing one too.

Everyone was giving themselves those last minute checks and tidying ups. Wives were straightening husband's ties and their own hair-doos. Clem was putting on the finishing touches to Beth's make-up and making sure that her french braid was still in place and holding up. Beth was doing her best to stay calm even though her tummy was in a stressful knot and her nerves were a jingle.

Belle came into the common room loaded down with flowers and set all the bouquets onto the dinning table in preparation of handing them out. She opened up a small box and lifted out the little hat and veil and came over to where Clem and Beth were putting on the final touches.

“Alright, sweetheart,” Belle smiled at her daughter. “Are you ready?”

Beth gave a big sigh. “I think so.”

“Alright. Here, stand up and we'll get your veil attached.”

Beth did so and Belle along with Clem's help settled the delicate and flowing veil upon the blonde head and carefully pinned the hat into place. Belle smoothed out the lace and allowed the material to fall gracefully over Beth's shoulders.

“There we are,” said the proud mother. “All set. Oh! Let's not forget the brooch. After all that drama to find the thing we can't go leaving it off can we?”

“Oh! No,” Beth gasped. “My goodness! I did forget about it. Where is it!?”

“It's right here,” Belle took it out of the shoe box and carefully pinned it in the center of the neck line. “There we go. Now put your shoes on. Well, you'd best sit down to do that dear.”

“Oh yes.”

Beth sat down again and slipped on the dainty shoes and tied up the laces. Even they were fitting her as though they had been made for her.

Belle took her by the hand and brought her to her feet again and handed her the colourful bouquet.

“There we go,” Belle said, feeling her own throat tighten as the emotions of the day caught up with her. “Let me look at you.” The mother drank in the daughter and she smiled as she held Beth at arm's length.

“Oh, but it does take me back,” Belle admitted. “And what a wonderful day it was.”

Everyone in the house stopped what they were doing to gaze upon the bride. Beth only had eyes for her mother.

Belle quickly wiped away a tear and taking her daughter by the shoulders she turned her around to face the full-length mirror and the two women stood together and gaze upon the reflection. Beth thought she was going to start crying again.

“Oh my!” she gasped. “It's beautiful.”

Belle gave her a hug. “You're beautiful sweetheart! Come on. It's time for you to get married.”

“Oh Mama! Thank you!” And she turned and gave her mother a hug.

In order to deny her own tight throat and prickling eyes Clem busied herself gathering together her facial repair kit.

“Well I swear!” she announced. “This wedding isn't going to get underway with us all standing around here like a bunch of ninnies! We all better get out there!”

“Yes!” Randa agreed as she finally remembered to remove the apron. “We'll all see you after the ceremony!” And she gave Beth a gentle kiss on the cheek and then headed for the door.

Clem was right in step with her and little Sally, remembering her promise gave Carol a hug and scampered after the two ladies to follow them out to yard and the assembly.

“Come along everyone!” Merle started herding her grandson towards the door. “I believe that's our cue.”

“Good luck Beth,” Maribelle said as she also gave her a kiss. “It's your special day—enjoy it!”

“Thank you everyone,” Beth responded. “You've all been so much help.”

The Jefferies made their exit, soon to be followed by David, Tricia and a damp Nathan. J.J. watched his friend leave wishing that he could escape his fate as easily as just walking out the door. But it was not to be.

Sarah found herself helping to hand out the various bouquets to the other members of the wedding party and then made sure that everyone got into line. Beth stood at the head, with Bridget and Carol behind her. Carol was looking so proud in her fine dress and her own bouquet, her radiant smile was second only to that of the bride. Behind them Belle had put herself in line beside J.J. in order to make sure the little mischief maker stayed in line and behaved himself. J.J. simply looked as though he wanted to bolt out the back door but he knew he better not or Papa would tan his backside. So he endured.

Jesse took a final look at the procession and then met his wife's eyes. Belle smiled and nodded to him, indicating that they were ready. He nodded back and then stepped out onto the front porch to send a wave to the Reverend. 

Sarah and Evelyn quickly scooted out around him and went to join up with the rest of their family. The Reverend Sikes nodded back to the father of the bride and Jesse returned to stand beside his daughter. He took her left hand in his and tucked her arm against him.

“Alright sweetheart,” he whispered to her. “Here we go. Don't trip on the stairs now.”

“Oh Papa!” she whispered back to him. “You just had to say that, didn't you!?”

He smiled cheekily and moved the precession out to the porch. He stopped them all there, waiting for the assembly to quieten down and then all eyes were upon them. He took a firmer hold on his daughter's arm just to ensure that she didn't actually trip on the steps and they began the walk over to where Jed awaited his bride.

Beth knew there was a crowd around her, all the family and friends who had been invited to share in this special day and she knew that all eyes were upon her. But she was hardly aware of them. She only had eyes for her betrothed and she gazed upon him with such love in her heart that she was sure that it must come up and choke her.

“I would say that from the look on Jed's face, you had nothing to worry about,” Jesse whispered to her. “Right now he's thinking how beautiful you are and what a lucky man he is that you consented to be his wife.”

Beth didn't answer him; she couldn't. But she gently squeezed his hand to let him know that she'd heard him.

Then they were there and Jesse took his daughter's hand and placed it on Jed's waiting arm and then offered his hand to his soon-to-be son-in-law. Jed grasped it and forcing his gaze away from his bride for a moment, he met Jesse's eyes and smiled. Jesse then stepped back out of the way and Belle left her place in the procession to go and stand beside him.

Bridget and Carol stepped up to stand beside the bride and J.J. moved to follow them. Heyes quickly caught the little man's eyes and motioned for him to come over and stand with the men. J.J. looked around, feeling a little skittish and then ran quickly to go and stand beside his Uncle Han.

“Ladies and Gentlemen. Family and friends. We are gathered here today in the sight of God to join this couple in holy matrimony.  
“This is not a union to be entered in upon lightly but with serious thought and honest intent.  
“Standing here before you today are Jedidiah and Bethany who have chosen to enter into the sanctity of marriage. They have invited you here today to witness their union and to honour and support them as they begin this journey together as husband and wife. If there is anyone here who knows of any legal or moral reason why these two people should not be wed let them speak up now or forever hold your peace.”

Silence from the assembly so Reverend Sikes discreetly nodded to Heyes who took his cue and dug the rings out of his inside breast pocket. He tapped J.J. on the shoulder and big brown eyes stared up at him, looking all the world like a deer in a hunter's sites. Heyes held out the rings for him to take but the little man froze and even though they had been over what he was suppose to do at this point, his mind just didn't seem to want to go there.

Heyes grinned and coming down to J.J.'s level, he took the boys hand and placed the rings into it. He closed the little fist upon them and turning J.J. by the shoulders gave him a gentle push in the direction of the reverend. Reverend Sikes smiled reassurance at him and held out his hand to receive the rings. J.J. reached out and released the golden bands into the man's hand and with a huge smile of triumph turned and hurried back to stand beside his Uncle Han. Heyes gave him a thumbs up.

The Reverend Sikes took the smaller of the two rings and handed it to Jed. Jed took the ring and holding Beth's left hand he followed the reverend's prompting in the recital of his vows.

“With this ring, I Jedidiah Edward take you Bethany Elizabeth to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do us part.” And he slipped the ring upon her finger.

The reverend them handed the larger ring to Beth and she repeated the vows in a voice so small and quiet that most of the guests could only assume that she was speaking them.

“I, Bethany Elizabeth take you Jedidiah Edward to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do us part.” Then with fingers that were slightly shaking she slipped the ring onto his finger and continued to hold onto his hand with both of hers.

“Jedidiah and Bethany have spoken their vows and they have given and received their rings as a symbol of their love and fidelity. What has been joined here today let no man bring asunder. They stand before you now and as God is their witness I take great pleasure in pronouncing you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”

Jed smiled and gently brushing aside the lacy veil he tilted Beth's chin up towards him and they kissed their first married kiss. They came apart and smiled into each other's eyes and the whole world was theirs.

“Ladies and Gentlemen!” the Reverend Sikes broke through their joyous haze. “I take great pleasure in presenting to you; Mr. and Mrs. Jedidiah Curry!”

The whole assembly broke up into wild cheers and clapping and even the occasional cat calls. Heyes stepped up quickly and taking Beth into his arms in a big bear hug, he lifted her off her feet and taking advantage of his privilege as Best Man kissed her fully on the mouth! Beth was taken by surprise but Jed just stood back and rolled his eyes as Heyes spun his new cousin around and then gently placed her back on her shaky feet.

“Congratulations darlin'!” he whispered in her ear. “You're the best thing that could have happened to him.”

Beth recovered quickly and smiled up at him. “Thank you Hannibal.”

As others rushed forward to congratulate the bride and groom, Heyes turned to his cousin and the two friends fell into a hug and a back slapping fest.

“Hey, hey Jed!” Heyes laughed. “I'm proud of ya' cousin! I was beginning to think you were never going to get around to it!”

“Naw Heyes. I know when I've lucked out!”

Kyle approached the bride to give his congratulations but he turned shy at the last moment and simply took her hand and mumbled 'Howdy' before backing off and retreating to familiar territory. Wheat was a little better by giving the bride a hug and his apologies.

“Ah, I'm sorry that I put a gun to your head ma'am,” he whispered. “I didn't mean nothin' by it.”

Beth laughed and placed a hand on his arm. “I know. All is forgiven—we're practically family now!”

“Oh,” Wheat smiled. “Yes ma'am. Thank you.” Then he turned to his two former soon to be current bosses. “Hey Kid! Ya' finally done somethin' right!”

“Hu huh.” Jed smiled and shook Wheat's hand. “Yeah, thanks Wheat.”

“Yeah! That was a real purdy weddin'!” Kyle agreed. “I don't think I been to a nicer!”

Jesse and Belle who were right there in the vicinity anyways came forward to give their congratulations just in time to see their youngest make a running bee line towards the house where it could only be assumed he would be getting out of his damp suit. Numerous other children followed in his wake since for them the boring stuff was finally over with and the serious play time could get underway!

Heyes quickly stepped back to give access to other guests who wanted to come forward and congratulate the new couple. Before he knew it his cousin and his wife were practically hidden from view. He smiled to himself; this was Jed's time, this was his day. All these people who were his friends, people whom he'd come to know during these past six years of living in this same town and at this same ranch, all rushing forward to congratulate him on his wedding day.

Heyes really saw it then, standing back away from the crowd. Jed was at home here and these people were his family. Heyes found himself feeling isolated as though what Jed had found was beyond his reach and again he considered the option of slipping away into the night and never looking back. Then a hand slipped into his and he looked down into large brown eyes. He smiled at the child and coming down to her level, he ran a caressing hand over her soft red hair.

He didn't even have a chance to ask her how she had enjoyed the wedding when she slung her short arms around his neck and hung on for all she was worth. Heyes smiled and took her into his arms and standing up again, he brought her up with him. He closed his eyes and held onto her as tightly as he dared. Unconditional love washed over him in waves and it felt so good, so reassuring that he didn't want to let her go.

“Don't be sad,” she said to his chin. She pushed herself away from his chest and they stared at each other, practically nose to nose. “There's no reason to be sad.”

“I'm not sad,” Heyes assured her. “Just—seeing changes on the wind.”

“Changes can be good,” she said, in her child-like innocence.

Heyes grinned at her. “Yes they can,” he agreed. “Some just take a little getting used to.”

She smiled back at him, a playful sparkle lighting up her eyes. “Your wife is very pretty. I like her.”

Heyes frowned. “My wife? I don't have a wife.”

“Yes you do,” Sally insisted and she twisted her little body in Heyes' arms and pointed over to the group of well-wishers.

Heyes followed her gesture and saw Miranda emerging from the crowd after having given her blessings to the new couple. She smiled a bit suspiciously when she noticed that she was being scrutinized and wasn't quite sure what to make of it. She had planned on joining up with Hannibal anyways, but now her curiosity had her committed and she headed over in their direction to meet this young miss who seemed to have Heyes wrapped around her little finger.

Heyes held out his free hand to Miranda and she accepted it with a smile.

 

To Be Continued.


	18. The Follow Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wedding celebrations continue on into the night.  
> Heyes and Kenny have a serious talk.  
> Jed and Beth embark on their honeymoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explicit sex. Again.

The Follow Up

 

“That was a charming ceremony,” Miranda commented as she settled in beside Hannibal and Sally. “They were both looking so excited and so happy.” She laughed. “Even J.J. held his own and stayed the course. Though he has certainly made a fast get-away.”

“Yes!” Heyes laughed. “Everyone can loosen their ties and relax now. The serious part is over—it's time to have some fun!” Heyes looked back at his young friend again and gave her a couple of bounces in his arm. “How about you?” he asked her. “Did Sister Julia bring some play clothes for you to change into?”

“Yes.”

“Oh! You're the child from the orphanage!” Miranda made the connection. “I saw you in the house earlier but I wasn't quite sure which adult you belonged to.”

“I belong to Mr. Heyes,” came back the simple answer.

Two sets of adult eyebrows went up.

“Really?” Heyes responded. “You've decided that have you?”

“Yes.”

“My my!” Randa commented. “I'm going to have to get in line—again! Mr. Heyes seems to have quite the following of young ladies these days.”

“There's no line-up!” Sally told her, looking at her like she was daft. “It's just you and me and we can share him.”

Two sets of adult eyebrows went up again.

“My but you're getting to be a big girl!” Heyes stated in part to cover his embarrassment. “Here, let me put you down for now. I'm beginning to realize what Kenny was talking about with Evelyn!”

He knelt down and placed the child onto her own feet and as he straightened up she promptly took hold of his left hand in one of hers and Miranda's right hand in her other. The two adults looked down at her not at all sure how to respond to this. She gazed up at them, an ecstatic smile taking over her little face.

“Come along Sally!” Sister Julia put in an appearance just in time. “Come into the house and let's get you into your play clothes. No sense keeping you all bundled up in your party dress on a warm day like this.”

“Yes Sister Julia,” Sally agreed to that and dropping the two hands she took hold of the Sister's and seemed quite content to go get into a change of clothes.

Julia hesitated a moment though and placed a hand on Heyes' arm.

“Remind me later Joshua,” she said with a small smile. “I've brought a small gift for the bride and groom, of course, but I also have something for you...from Dr. Slosson.”

“Oh!” Heyes was hit with another surprise. “What....?”

Julia smiled broadly. “It seems her husband bought her a new music box, so knowing how much you enjoyed listening to the classical's, she asked me to pass the old one on to you—along with some of the music you seemed to prefer.”

“Oh....my....” Heyes was speechless—again.

“I hope it doesn't stir up too many bad memories for you,” the Sister ventured.

“Oh no! Not at all.” Heyes smiled. “I'll be sure to write her a thank you note and give it to you before you leave. I'm very honoured that she would even think to give that to me.”

“Well,” the Sister patted his arm. “she hoped that you would enjoy it.”

“Oh yes! Yes indeed. I will.”

“I will see you in a little bit,” she announced as Sally started to pull her up the stairs. “It seems that someone is in a hurry!”

Heyes turned back to Miranda, pleasant surprise still dancing on his face.

“Dr. Slosson?” Miranda asked him.

“Oh! Ah, she was the pastor out at the prison,” Heyes explained.

“Oh yes,” Miranda was impressed. “I seem to recall David talking about a woman pastor when I first moved here. Most unusual to hear of a woman taking on something like that!”

“Yes!” Heyes confirmed. “And she was a good one too. She did a lot to keep me going.” A sadness crossed over his features as some memories flooded back. “I'm afraid I wasn't very considerate towards her during the last six months or so that I was there. I'll have to apologize to her for that when I write to her.”

“I'm sure she understood what you were going through,” Randa assured him. “Well, obviously she did or she would not have sent you such a fine gift.”

Heyes nodded emphatically. “It would appear so, wouldn't it?”

“Hmm.” Randa nodded. “And what an intriguing child. I'm not at all sure what to make of her.”

Heyes grinned. “Tell me about it,” he agreed. “She's always been like that though—very intuitive when it comes to emotions. I kind of got used to it after a while. Whoa!!”

This last bit when he glanced up and saw a group of enthusiastic adults bearing down upon them, with Jed and Beth in the lead. Heyes slid an arm around Miranda's waist and directed her out of the way.

“What's going on!?” he demanded.

“Time to sign the registration and marriage certificate!” Jed announced as they swept past them. “C'mon Heyes! As Best Man you're my witness, so you gotta sign too!”

“My my my!” Heyes complained in mock indignation. “A Best Man's job is never done, it seems!”

Miranda laughed. “Well, go on!” she told him as she gave him a slight push up the steps. “Do your duty. I'll be out here getting some iced tea!”

“Yes ma'am!” Heyes accepted his obligation and with a quick smile, trotted up the steps and into the house.

Miranda stayed standing where she was for a few moments. The smile on her face faded and a thoughtful, introspective expression took it over. Yes indeed; a very intriguing child.

 

Twenty minutes later saw everyone exiting the ranch house along with all the younger children who had been finally released from their 'Sunday best'. They had been given permission to go play, but 'please!' came the dubious request, 'try to stay out of the creek this time!'.

Beth had removed the little hat and veil and was proudly showing off the lovely braid and hair comb that Clementine had contributed and even Jed made the appropriate noises of appreciation. Beth was relieved that the ceremony was over and done with now and so could relax and finally really enjoy her wedding day. Clementine was pleased that her handiwork was being so well received by everyone and was in high spirits herself.

The guests soon gravitated towards the refreshment table to nibble on sandwiches and cookies until such time as more iced tea and lemonade could be brought out. But now along with the milder refreshments, Jesse and Steven began to produce wine and beer and whiskey for those who wished to imbibe in something a little stronger and to toast the bride and groom on their special day.

It took a bit of time and quite a lot of shuffling and organizing but eventually all the adults and those children who would stand still for it, had a glass of something in their hands and Jesse got the attention of their guests.

“Good afternoon, everyone!” Jesse called out. “I'm pleased that so many of you were able to attend this very special day. Thank you for coming! I must say it has certainly turned out to be an interesting day for many of us!”

Some murmurings of appreciative chuckling throughout the gathering.

“I must admit,” Jesse continued. “that there were times when I wondered if this day would actually ever arrive. I've heard of long engagements before but this one pretty much had all those others beat.” 

Some more laughing and comments of agreement. Beth sighed against her husband's shoulder, being in an position to fully appreciate what her father was saying.

“Still, I must admit that there was good reason for the delay,” Jesse conceded. “and both Jed and Beth stayed true to a promise even though I know there were times that it was difficult for them. Now I am sure there are no regrets and this day is all the better for their patience.”

Jed nodded and gave his partner a pat on the back. Heyes smiled a little self-consciously, knowing full well that he was the one they made the promise to. Miranda smiled at his discomfort and squeezed his hand in subtle support.

“Now I'm not going to make this a long drawn out speech,” Cheers from the crowd. “as I'm sure there are others who would like to say a piece. So I will just close off by saying how pleased we are to welcome Jed into our family.” A couple of pats on the back to Jed by those who were close enough to reach. “And how proud my wife and I are of our daughter. Not only for choosing wisely but also for sticking to her guns against all opposition because she knew in her heart that Jed was the man she wanted to marry. Congratulations sweetheart. The future lies before you and I know you'll do well as long as you face it together. To Jed and Beth!!”

All the glasses were raised in the air and the toast was repeated at the top of everyone's lungs. Beth was pleased beyond words as she held onto her husband's arm and Jed didn't know whether to laugh or try to disappear into thin air. All this attention focused on him made him feel as though a posse was on his trail again! Heyes was grinning from dimple to dimple and gave his partner another slap on the back—he was once again enjoying good spirits.

“Hannibal!” Jesse called over to the small group. “You're the Best Man—get over here and say a few words!”

Heyes' smiled dropped and he suddenly felt like he'd been caught breaking into a safe. All eyes turned towards him and he swallowed nervously.

“Oh! Ahh....”

“Yeah! C'mon Hannibal!” Jed teased him and gave him a rather solid slap on the back. “Get up there and say a few!”

Heyes sent his cousin a look, then smiled ruefully as Miranda gave his hand a squeeze and pushed him gently towards the head of the gathering.

“Yeah, yeah. Okay.” He accepted his fate and went over to stand beside Jesse.

He and Jesse shook hands and the older gentleman stepped aside so that the assembly all had their eyes on the ex-con. Heyes turned to face them and his heart caught in his throat. It'd been a long time since he'd gotten up in front of a group of people in order to give a speech, and then it was just to a bunch of uneducated outlaws! Oh, but then there were the orphans too; he thought ruefully, and that had turned out okay. He took heart and though nervous at first, when he looked out upon the gathering he saw that he knew most of the people present.

He smiled as he realized that these people weren't just Jed's friends, they weren't just Jed's family. They were Heyes' too and he felt such a kinship to these folks and to this place that he had never felt before and suddenly he wasn't nervous anymore.

“Well,” Heyes began and he smiled over at his cousin and his bride. “This is indeed a special day. And it's one, I have to admit, that I truly thought I would never live to see.” A large 'Awww' come up from the gathering and Heyes held up his arm to silence them. “No now, not because I didn't think Jed could ever attract a fine woman!” he clarified. “No. No, it's just that ten years ago I didn't think either of us would live long enough.” The group quieted, sensing that joking time was over. “Yeah. I didn't think I'd see thirty-five let alone forty. And that would have been the case too if it hadn't been for that man over there. That man and a number of others of you out there who stood by me and wouldn't let me give up.  
“I stand here now, feeling that I want to thank so many of you. Jesse and Belle. Bridget and Beth. Sister Julia. Lom, David, Steven, Kenny...and Doc. Each in your own way, you got tough on us both. You offered us a way out of the dead-end lives we were leading and you showed us a better way.” He laughed, shaking his head. “Then you made darn sure that we stayed going in the right direction too! Man! It wasn't easy was it Kid? Getting from there to here.” 

Jed smiled and shook his head. “No Heyes—it sure wasn't!”

“Yeah. But we did it! With the help of friends. With the help of family. We did it.” Heyes' dimples returned to the party. “Now here we are on this very long awaited day! My younger cousin—against all odds! Has beaten me to the punch and taken himself a wife! And a very lovely wife at that.” He raised his glass and the assembly followed. “To Jed and Beth; two of the best friends a man could ever hope to have!”

Everyone raised their glasses to the toast and Heyes stepped back into the gathering. Jesse stepped forward again and held up his hand to quiet the talk.

“I think it's about time we heard from the groom, don't you?” he asked the assembly.

“Yeah!”

“C'mon Jed! Get up there!”

“Well, I guess I knew this was coming,” Jed mumbled into his beer glass. Then he reminded himself of why he was here and smiling he gave Beth a kiss on the cheek and handed his beer to Heyes.

“Oh!” Heyes grinned his delight. “Thank you.”

“Yeah.”

Jed made his way over to stand beside his father-in-law and a big cheer went up from the assembled guests and everyone started clapping. Jed grinned foolishly and he looked out upon a sea of faces that were now just as familiar to him as the Devil's Hole boys had once been. He stood there quietly waiting for the cheers and clapping to settle down and then took a deep breath and locked eyes with his bride.

“Beth, darlin',” he began and Beth smiled back. Heyes had his arm around her shoulders. “Thank you for waiting for me. Thank you for giving me the time and space I needed to come around to realize something that you'd known all along. Thank you for supporting me in my endeavour and for already being there for me for better or for worse and not because of a marriage vow, but because you loved me and you loved Heyes and because you being you, you just weren't capable of giving anything less than what you did.  
“I still can't quite believe that you're my wife. Like Heyes said; neither of us thought we would live long enough to see either of us get married. It was just a pipe dream, something that other people did, but not us. And now here we are, surrounded by family and friends and I couldn't be happier! Thank you darlin'.”

“Your welcome,” Beth forced out through a tight throat and an embarrassed smile.

Heyes tightened up his hug and gave her a kiss on the temple.

“Heyes! You keep in mind; that's my wife you got your arm around there!” Jed teased him.

Heyes grinned. “Oh, of course! Cousin.”

A chuckle went around the gathering but quieted when they saw Jed's expression turn serious.

“Aww, Heyes.” Jed shook his head in wonderment. “You really are one to push a man to his limits—and a woman too!” Some murmured agreements from various people in the gathering. “But I love ya' more than a brother...”

“Yeah....” quietly escaped Heyes' lips.

Miranda and Beth surprised themselves as they each leaned in to give Heyes a hug and their hands met half way behind his back. They sent laughing glances over to one another and clasped their two hands together.

“...and I know I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you,” Jed continued.

“Yeah, likewise....” was again a quiet response.

“I know you're not sure where your life is going now,” Jed continued. “I donno, maybe ya' think that you don't have a place here anymore, that you're the odd man out. But nothin' could be further from the truth Heyes. We always talked about how we wanted to find a place to call home—a real place! Not just some hideout up in the hills, but a home! Well this is it, partner. We could search the four corners of the world and not find a better place than this.  
“I guess, what I'm tryin' to say is that even though I promised you otherwise and I'll stand by that promise if you insist, but I'm really hopin' you won't insist. The only thing that could possibly ruin the happiness I'm feeling right now is for you to decide you're gonna leave. I don't want ya' to leave Heyes. I want my young'uns to know you—and your young'uns to know me! I want you to stay.”

Heyes felt like the bottom had just dropped out of his gut; just how was he suppose to respond to that? Fortunately Jed didn't expect him to respond. He grinned and changed his focus to the silent guests.

“This is the best day of my life!” Jed announced. “And I expect everybody to have a good time! There's plenty to eat and plenty to drink and we're gonna have us a party!!”

The cheer went up like a roar and the said party got into full swing. A few more individuals got up and made impromptu speeches and more toasts were made and more beer, wine, whiskey and iced tea were consumed. Everybody thought it only fitting to do as the groom suggested and a good time was determined to be had by all.

 

At 3:00 Joe Morin showed up with a saddle bag full of telegrams for the newlywed couple. The young deputy stood on the front porch and read them all out one by one. Many of them were from people only Heyes and the Kid would have known and chuckles from them were often the only indication of some inside joke or some long ago, nearly forgotten episode suddenly being brought into the limelight again!

Notable amongst the well-wishers were quick notes from Patrick McCreedy and Soapy Saunders with each including money transfers to Jed's account in Brookswood. There was also a quick note from Diamond Jim Guffy not only congratulating Jed on his nuptials but also apologizing to Heyes for not visiting him in prison. It seems the elderly gentleman had some concerns that once he stepped into the prison the authorities might not see fit to let him leave!

Heyes laughed and nodded in agreement. Kenny and Steven didn't want to know about it.

There was also a note from Jim and Clara Santana offering them congratulations not only on the marriage but also on their new lease on life. Both Jed and Heyes were very much surprised to hear from them as it'd been years since they'd had any word from the couple. Apparently all was going well.

Then Heyes felt a slight prickling of jealousy when Deputy Morin read out a simple telegram from Abi. She sent congratulations and best wishes to the happy couple. But then there was an added note; 'Thinking of you on this special day.' Heyes pursed his lips, thinking—nay; hoping that perhaps that last bit was for him. He felt Miranda lean into him closer and squeeze his hand and he smiled down at her. He raised her hand and kissed it, letting her know that everything was alright. Nothing was going to ruin this day.

And so the festivities carried on into the late afternoon when it was finally announced that dinner was ready! It became quite the showdown as everyone helped themselves to potato salads and fresh bread and juicy slices of meat from the BBQ spit. The tables that had been placed around the yard were quickly filled up and soon people were settling themselves down wherever a space could be found and tucked in to enjoy the meal.

Before too much more time had passed, those who had brought fiddles along with them brought them out from hiding and music soon filled the air and everyone anticipated a fun evening. The first dance of course was saved for Jed and Beth but Jed found himself wondering what everybody was waiting for.

“Why ain't nobody dancin'?” he asked nobody in particular.

“I believe it's because they're waiting for you,” Steven quietly informed him.

“Waitin' for me?” Jed repeated. “Why?”

“It's expected for the bride and groom to take the first dance,” Steven explained.

“Oh.” Jed paled slightly. “Ya' mean I gotta get out there and dance in front of everybody?”

“It would probably be to your advantage to take Beth with you,” Heyes told him.

“Yeah, I know...but....”

Heyes grinned. So much for the notorious gunman! Here's a man who had learned to stare down governors but he couldn't even get out and dance in front of a whole bunch of people, even if he did know them all. Beth stood by, her brown eyes sparkling with anticipation while she waited for her husband to take the lead. Heyes took pity on his partner's discomfort and standing up he offered his arm to his own lady.

“Would you like to dance?” he asked her.

Miranda smiled up at him, knowing exactly what he was up to. She stood herself and placed her hand on his offered arm. Heyes began to lead her out to the opened dance area, sending a subtle look to his cousin as he went. Jed got the hint and feeling a little more confident now he offered his arm to Beth and the two couples began the dance together.

After that number was completed, the assembly clapped and cheered and then partners were procured and the dancing began in earnest. Soon everyone was changing partners so nobody got left out and Jed was even able to convince Sister Julia to let protocol slip and condescend to dance at least one dance with the bridegroom. Heyes lifted Sally and gave her a twirl around the yard as well, much to her unending delight and excitement.

After that dance was done that group finally decided to leave the dancing to the guests for a while and they retired to various chairs located on the front porch.

“Oh my!” the Sister exclaimed breathlessly. “I haven't danced like that since I was a girl! I'm surprised I still remember how!”

“You did fine Sister,” Jed assured her. “You must have been quite the firecracker in your younger days.”

The Sister laughed. “It's so long ago I can barely remember.”

“Oh, come on now Sister!” Heyes chided her. “It can't be that long ago. I would have had a hard time keeping up with you out there.”

The Sister sent him a dubious look, knowing that he was just being kind. 

Heyes gave Sally a bounce where she was perched on his knee. “And you, young lady!” he teased her. “Where do you get all that energy? You play all day and now you expect to dance all night—is that it?”

Sally giggled, pleased with the attention her chosen man was giving her. “No. Not ALL night,” she informed him.

“Certainly not!” Sister Julia seconded. “It's going to be dark soon and we need to be heading back to town.”

Sally pouted and leaned into Heyes chest, hugging him and sending the Sister a remorseful look. Heyes laughed and Sally liked the way the sound vibrated in his chest.

“Oh well, there's going to be a whole caravan heading back into town in a few of hours Sister,” Heyes pointed out. “Why don't you wait and go then? It'll be safer going with a group.”

“That'll make it awfully late for our young little miss,” Sister Julia pointed out. “I doubt she'll stay awake that long.”

“Yes I will!” Sally was quite adamant. “I'm not tired at all!”

“No!” the Sister laughed. “Not until you suddenly fall asleep on your feet.”

“A number of the younger children will be napping in the various bedrooms until it's time to go home,” Jed pointed out. “If Sally gets too tired, she can always do that.”

“See?” Sally approved the idea. “We don't have to go yet!”

“Well, I suppose that would be alright,” Sister Julia agreed. “It is a special day after all.”

Jed then noticed somebody standing on the outskirts of the dance area, looking a little embarrassed but still wanting oh so desperately to get someone's attention.

“Ah, Beth darlin'...” Jed began tentatively. “Would you mind if I had one more dance with a certain young lady?”

Beth laughed. “You've already danced with just about every woman here—even Isabelle! Why should I mind one more?”

“Well, this particular lady had her own designs on marriage at one point and I wouldn't want you to get the wrong idea and get jealous.”

Beth creased her brow and looked a question at her husband. Jed smiled and motioned over to object of their conversation. Everyone followed the gesture and while Heyes grinned knowingly, Beth simply sent Jed her own version of 'the look'.

“You silly!” she accused him and gave him a slap on the arm. “Go make your peace.”

Jed smiled and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I'll be back.”

“I certainly hope so,” Beth teased him. “It wouldn't look good at all for you to go running off with another woman on our wedding day!”

Jed simply nodded agreement and rising from his chair he walked over to the young lady. Evelyn's face broke into a smile as Jed held his arm out to her.

“May I be so bold as to ask this pretty young lady for a dance?” he smiled down at her.

Evelyn adopted a most serious of attitudes and straightening her shoulders she gave a subtle nod of her head and placed her hand on his arm.

“Yes you may,” she told him in the most lady-like manner she could muster.

Jed escorted her over to the dancing and holding both of her hands in his he led her gracefully around the 'floor' to the accompaniment of the fiddle players. He briefly considered lifting her up and dancing with her the way Heyes had danced with Sally, but Evelyn was getting much to big to do that. Besides, she might be insulted by the insinuation that she was still a small child. The next words out of her mouth convinced him that his judgement had been correct.

“I am so glad we have the chance to talk together before I leave for the evening,” the little lady told him, quite seriously.

“Oh yes?” Jed played along. “This sounds very important.”

“It is,” Evelyn agreed. “I just wanted to be sure that you're not mad at me.”

“Mad at you?” Jed repeated as he put her into a little twirl. “About what?”

“Well, I know that we were once very close,” Evelyn explained. “But with the distance between us, it really wasn't practical to carry on with any kind of relationship. I just hope that your marriage to Miss Jordan isn't simply a reaction to the disappointment that I had moved on.”

Jed almost started to laugh, but he did an excellent job of stifling it and forced a most serious expression onto his face.

“Oh! Well, no Miss Evelyn, you needn't worry yourself about that,” Jed assured her once he was safe to talk. “Though I was certainly disappointed I also realized that it was most impractical to expect you to wait for me. I assure you that I am quite happy with the way things have turned out.”

Evelyn sent a winning smile up to him. “Good!” she exclaimed. “And might I add that I wholeheartedly approve of Miss Jordan. She appears to be a very fine match for you.”

“Well thank you,” Jed responded. “I'm very pleased that you approve.”

Back at the porch, just as Jed was asking Evelyn for the dance, Jesse approached the group and smiled at his daughter.

“Mrs. Curry,” Jesse greeted her and Beth beamed with pleasure. “Might the father of the bride request a dance with his lovely daughter?”

If Beth's grin could have gotten any bigger, it would have. As it was she simply accepted her father's arm and stood up to join him. Jesse sent a quick smile over to the others on the porch and then led his dance partner over to join the group.

“You look wonderful today,” he told her as they got in step with the horde. “This is probably a ridiculous question; but are you happy?”

“Yes Papa,” she assured him. “Very happy.

“Good. I'm pleased to hear it,” Jesse told her. “Has Jed told you where he's taking you on your honeymoon yet?”

“NO!” Beth answered with some frustration. “He refuses. Says that it's a surprise!”

“Well, as long as he doesn't take you to Devil's Hole!” Jesse teased her. “He and I might have words if he does that.”

“Oh Papa!” Beth teased him. “Why would he do that when what's left of Devil's Hole is already here?”

“Good point,” her father conceded and he smiled. “I'm sure you'll have a good time, no matter what he has in mind.”

“Yes,” Beth agreed quietly. “It really doesn't matter where we go, so long as we're together.”

“Hmm hm.”

Back on the porch, Heyes was sitting quietly with Sally slowly but surely falling asleep in his arms. His attention was focused on the Kid, watching him playfully swirl his young partner around the dance floor, nimbly avoiding collisions at every turn. Sister Julia was sitting back with a cup of tea and quietly watching the young people enjoying the evening. She herself was far too tired now to do anything more than watch them. Miranda was silently watching Heyes watching Jed.

After a few moments, she smiled and touched his arm. “What are you thinking?” she asked quietly.

Heyes was brought out of his revelry with a guilty frown. “Oh.” He acknowledged his date. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ignore you.”

“You're not ignoring me,” Randa assured him. “But your expression was so thoughtful. It just made me wonder.”

“Ahh.” Heyes nodded as he gently caressed Sally's hair. “Jed looks so happy today. I haven't seen him smile this much since,” he shrugged. “....well, I can't remember when.”

“That's good!” Randa pointed out. “He's suppose to be happy on his wedding day!”

“Yeah.”

Miranda and Sister Julia shared a glance across the man sitting between them.

“Is Jed right?” Miranda asked him. “Are you worried about where this is going to leave you?”

“No, not worried,” he assured her. “Just curious I suppose. Our lives are changing, that's for sure.”

“Changing for the better, don't you think?”

Heyes' brows went up with adamant agreement. “Yes! I certainly hope so! It would be about time, wouldn't it!”

“It is,” the Sister assured him. “I have a feeling this wedding is the turning point—for both of you!”

Heyes laughed quietly. “I thought this little one was the only intuitive lady in the group.”

“God speaks to all of us,” Julia pointed out. “You just have to learn how to listen.”

Belle came out the front door with her own cup of tea and sat down in one of the recently vacated chairs. She sighed deeply and took an appreciative sip of her beverage.

“You know,” she commented wistfully. “I don't think I'll ever be able to have a cup of tea again without thinking of Amy. This is one of her own personal blends by the way. She sent it over especially for today.”

“Really?” the Sister enquired. “It is lovely—very relaxing. I was going to ask you where you got it from. Perhaps she'll sell me a small bag of it before we head for home.”

“She gave me plenty!” Belle assured her. “I'll be quite happy to share some with you.”

“Thank you. That would be lovely.”

Belle glanced over to the dancers and smiled lovingly when she spotted her husband and their daughter dancing together.

“She looks so beautiful today,” Belle commented proudly. “This really was her day to shine.” Then she spotted Thaddeus dancing with Evelyn and started to laugh. “Oh my! Mending bridges is he?”

“I think it's more the other way around,” Heyes observed. “I believe Evelyn is trying to let him down easy so he can get on with his life and be happy with Beth.”

“Oh my.” Belle smiled. “She can be such a little lady. It's hard to believe she's the same child who showed up in our front room dripping mud and wet horse manure all over the floor!”

All the adults laughed their agreement.

“Oh she was such a mess!” Miranda exclaimed. “Far worse than any of the boys!”

“Yes!” Heyes expostulated. “Nobody's ever going to convince me that girls are easier to raise than boys! I've seen that rule put to the test and squashed too many times!”

“I don't know about that, Joshua,” Belle countered him. “J.J. sure runs me ragged sometimes. Ah, but then I suppose I am much older now than when the girls were small. I just don't have the same energy anymore.”

“I can certainly relate to that!” Sister Julia piped in. “I used to be able to run circles around the children at the orphanage—but now? It's all I can do to avoid being run over by them!”

“You do a wonderful job out there Sister,” Heyes assured her. “All of you do. A loving stable environment makes all the difference with these youngsters.”

“Loving parents would be better,” Sister Julia hinted, not terribly subtle in her delivery.

Heyes sent her a knowing look and smiled. “Why is everyone assuming I'm going to be getting married soon?”

The two older ladies locked eyes and laughed. Heyes looked exasperated. Miranda occupied herself with watching the dancers.

“Why is that you're the only one who can't see it?” Belle asked him playfully.

Heyes' exasperation grew, but he took it all in the good spirit in which it was given. Sally chose this moment to wake up and squirm a little in Heyes' arms.

“Oh here, let me take her,” Sister Julia offered. “I think it is time she had a real nap.”

“Yes,” Belle agreed as she set her tea cup down. “The two younger Johnston girls are already napping in the one bedroom. But we can put Sally in Jed's room.”

The two ladies stood up in preparation of tending to the child.

“I'll take her in,” Heyes offered as he carefully got to his own feet. “She's not exactly a light weight anymore. I remember the first time I picked her up, she was light as a feather.”

“She couldn't have been any more than four or five years old then Joshua!” Julia pointed out. “They do grow you know!”

“Yes, so I've noticed,” Heyes commented. He smiled down at Miranda. “I'll be right back,” he assured her. “Don't go anywhere.”

“No, I don't plan to.”

Heyes followed the ladies into the house and on through to Jed's room. Belle got an extra blanket out of the chest while Heyes gently laid the little girl down on the bed. She squirmed again just a bit and then naturally settled into a curl and probably didn't even wake up throughout the whole procedure. Heyes smiled and stroked her long hair again, then turned only to be brought up short by two ladies smiling at him. 

“What?” he asked quietly.

“Nothing.”

Heyes grinned, knowing full well what was on their minds but he made no further comment and followed them back out to the main room.

“Sister, could you help me put some more of these small cakes outside?” Belle asked her. “I've noticed that some of the guests are already starting to leave, but we should still have something out there for those who wish to remain and continue dancing.”

“Of course!” Sister Julia agreed. “I might help myself to one of them myself once we get settled again.”

“Would you like me to take them out?” Heyes offered. “You must be exhausted Belle. It's been a long day for you.”

“Oh I'm fine,” she assured her friends. “Though I'll probably be feeling it more tomorrow! But tomorrow we can rest. In the mean time, why don't you just go and ask Miranda for another dance? I'm sure the evening will be winding down soon so get out there and have some fun while you can!”

“Alright, I will,” Heyes accepted that. “But you let me know if you need any help with anything.”

“I will, don't worry!”

Heyes took his leave only to find himself all alone on the porch. Miranda was nowhere to be seen. He frowned and did a quick scan of the busy yard in front of him. When he finally did pick her out from the crowd he wasn't sure if he should be amused or irritated. A combination of both seemed to fit the bill.

He strode down the steps and with just a few long strides he entered the swirling mass of lighthearted dancers and quickly approached one couple in particular. He stopped and tapped Wheat on the shoulder. Wheat stopped dancing and glanced back at him.

“Oh! Ah, hiya Heyes,” he shuffled.

“Howdy Wheat,” Heyes grinned dangerously. “You mind if I cut in on ya' here?”

“Oh ah, a' course not,” Wheat quickly stepped aside. “Just keepin' the lady company Heyes. Didn't want her gettin' bored on ya'.”

“Uh huh.” Heyes stepped in. “Thank you Wheat. I think I can handle it from here on.”

“Yeah, a' course.”

Heyes picked up his lady's hands and then settled in with an arm around her waist. Miranda's eyes danced with amusement.

“You could have said 'no', ya' know,” Heyes pointed out.

“But why?” She laughed at him. “I didn't want to hurt his feelings.”

“Hmm.”

Wheat found himself without a partner and he glanced around until he spotted Kyle. He grinned wickedly and stepping up behind, he tapped his friend on the shoulder. Kyle glanced back and a look of disappointment crossed his face.

“I'm cuttin' in on ya' Kyle.”

“Aw, but Wheat, we just....”

“Scram,” Wheat told him and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Plenty of other ladies wanting ta' dance.”

Kyle reluctantly stepped aside and Wheat smiled down at Martha Trevors before leading her off and quickly avoiding a collision with David and Clementine. Kyle looked around and grinned when he spied young Charlie Reece dancing with the eldest Johnston girl. He made his way over to the young couple and tapped Charlie on the shoulder.

Charlie moved along, quickly side-stepping Lom and Tricia and didn't feel that he wanted to challenge that particular gentleman. He smiled when he spied Deputy Morin dancing with Isabelle and thought that this was more his level. Joe Morin discreetly backed off and looked around to find Bridget Granger standing alone on the outskirts having let her husband get Rosie settled for another nap. Joe smiled and headed her way.

Heyes quickly manoeuvred his lady out of the way so they wouldn't collide with Harry and Sarah Reece and then almost bumped into Kenny who had cut in on Jed in order to have one last dance with his daughter before she was too tired to treat her old man. Jed returned to the refreshment table just in time for more cakes. He helped himself to one mouthful, then scooped his mother-in-law off to the dancing despite her playful insistence that she really shouldn't!

Sister Julia replenished her tea cup, helped herself to a cake and settled back on the porch to watch the song and dance.

“I hope you weren't too uncomfortable on the porch,” Heyes said to Miranda as they circled the other dancers.

“Uncomfortable?” Randa asked. “About what?”

“Well...” Heyes shrugged. “Belle and Sister Julia talking about marriage and all that.”

“Oh!” Randa laughed. “No, no. I realize they were just teasing you. That's what older ladies do you know. It just means that they care about you and want to see you happy.”

“Oh.” Heyes nodded and smiled at her. “You are wonderful though.”

“I'm glad you think so.”

“I do,” Heyes reiterated. “And seeing Jed so happy today, makes me want it too. It's just....”

“You're not ready yet,” Miranda finished for him. “Amy and I have been discussing you quite a lot.”

Heyes' brows went up. “Really?”

“Hmm,” Randa nodded and smiled coyly. “She's says that men are just like little boys when it comes to dealing with a woman's emotions. Any sign of a distressed woman and you all turn tail and run for the hills.”

“Is that what she says,” Heyes commented dryly.

“Yes.” Miranda was quite adamant. “That I just need to be patient. That eventually you'll get over being scared and you'll remember how to show a lady what you really feel about her.”

“Really?”

“Yes. And....”

Miranda's next words were cut off as Heyes pulled her in against him and holding her tightly he leaned down and kissed her fully on the mouth right there in front of everyone who cared to noticed. Miranda's breath somehow escaped from her lungs as the long awaited sensual contact brought back a flood of emotion. She brought her arms up behind his shoulders and held on for dear life. She returned his kiss wholeheartedly while those around them whooped and hollered and began slapping Heyes on the back.

Somewhere in that little bit that was still aware of his surroundings, Heyes could hear the Kid laughing.

 

“C'mon Kid, where are ya' going for your honeymoon?”

“Ahh, I don't know if I should tell ya' Heyes.”

“Why not?”

“Cause you'll probably want to come along,” Kid explained. “I know I said I love ya' more than a brother but this time you ain't welcome.”

“Well now I really gotta know where you're going!”

“Ohhh, I donno.....”

Heyes sat back in his chair on the porch and pouted. Jed's laughing blue eyes scrutinized him and then both men focused their attention across the yard where many of the ladies of their close acquaintance were gathered in a high spirited group, discussing the day's events.

“Alright Heyes,” Jed relented. “I guess I can tell ya'. Besides, Jesse knows now so you may as well.”

“Oh! Jesse already knows?” Heyes felt insulted. “You told Jesse but you couldn't tell me!?”

“Well I kinda doubt that Jesse would want to come with us.”

“I don't want to come with ya' Kid!” Heyes insisted. “I just wanna know where you're going!”

“No need to get angry....”

“I'm not getting angry!”

Miranda, Beth and Tricia all glanced over towards the porch at the sound of raised voices. Heyes sighed resignedly and sent a reassuring wave and nod over to the group of ladies.

“See? Even they think you're getting angry.”

“I swear....you can be the most contrary, stubborn man I have ever.....”

“We're going to San Francisco to see Silky.”

“Oh.” Heyes was stopped in his tracks. “I didn't think you could afford....”

“Well that was Silky's wedding present to us,” Jed explained. “Bridget went on and on so much about the dinner theatre that she and Steven went to that Beth really wanted to see that for herself.”

“Oh. So you're going to be staying with Silky?”

“Only for a few nights,” Jed informed him. “After that Silky is going to let us use his hunting cabin for as long as we like. I figure a week will be good. Then we'll head back home.”

“A cabin?” Heyes sounded dubious. “You think that's a good idea? I mean you'll be out there all alone, just the two of ya'...”

“Heyes, I'm thinkin' that's the whole idea.”

“Well, yeah I know, but....” Heyes became serious and met his cousin's eyes. “We still have this vendetta going on Kid. Do you really think it's a good idea to be out in the middle of nowhere like that? I mean, it could be dangerous.”

“Why do ya' think I'm not tellin' anybody where we're goin'?” Jed whispered back. “I'm even keeping it a secret from Beth cause I don't want her lettin' anyone else know. You know, Jesse knows and a' course Silky knows. But nobody else. It's probably safer than being in town!”

Heyes frowned. “Hmmm. I suppose.”

“It'll be fine Heyes. One whole week, all on our own. Just me and my wife.”

Jed grinned. He sat back and scrutinized his said wife and she smiled lovingly back at him. It still seemed surreal to the ex-outlaw. This was something he'd wanted for most of his adult life and had brushed it aside as a pipe dream—that it was just never going to happen. Then to have it happen with a young woman whom he'd already known for years! Someone whom he'd never even considered seriously courting because, well; she was family, and besides, she was only twelve years old.

Funny how children stay the same age as the last time you saw them. In the years that had followed their encounter with the Jordan family, Jed had often thought about them, but he never imagined the girls growing up. Now look at them!

Bridget's been married for a couple of years with a child of her own. Now Beth. Ohh Beth. Jed's heart stopped beating at the sight of her. He was looking right at her and he still couldn't quite believe it; he was a married man and he couldn't have found himself a better match, or a better family to have married into. This is what life was all about.

Heyes sat quietly, scrutinizing his cousin as a gentle smile slowly spread across his face. He knew his cousin was happy—there could be no doubt about it. Heyes drew his eyes away from his best friend and looked over to his own lady, because, he supposed; he had declared her as such here today, right in front of everyone. Yeah, when he decided to do something he didn't do it by halves, that was for sure. The only thing was; he couldn't quite remember when he had actually decided to do that.

Everyone's attention got diverted as the doors on the second barn swung open and the pair of high stepping matched greys came dancing out into the open, all harnessed and ready for the trip back to town. Everyone gasped and clapped their hands in appreciation of the fine carriage that had been decorated with flowing ribbons and spring flowers in celebration of the newly married couple.

The two horses danced and snorted with heads and tails up, wondering what those strange moving shapes were that seemed to be following them. Their ears flicked back and forth and they tossed their heads, trying to get a look at fluttering ribbons, but to no avail. Gradually, being the well-trained, sensible creatures that they were, they settled down and simply accepted it as yet another of those strange things that humans tended to get up to.

“I'm assuming it's time to go,” said David from behind the cousins.

Both Heyes and Jed jumped, not having realized that David was standing behind them. He smiled cheekily, holding a sleeping Nathan in his arms.

“You and Beth should get in first,” the doctor informed the groom.

“Aren't we all heading back to town together?” Jed asked him.

“Yes, but Beth has to throw her bouquet before we drive off so I think it's best if it's just you and her in the carriage for that tradition.”

“Oh.”

Jed sent a questioning look over to Heyes, who shrugged but stood up in anticipation.

“Guess it's time to depart Kid.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Down by the carriage the maiden ladies were all beginning to gather around, laughing and excited in anticipation. Beth was beaming with pleasure and was only waiting for her husband to put in an appearance before she stepped up into the carriage.

“Here you go, sweetheart.” Belle handed Beth her flower bouquet and then gave her daughter a heartfelt hug. You have fun and enjoy yourself.”

Beth hugged her back and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Yes Momma! We'll see you in a couple of weeks.”

Over on the side lines, two friends were having their own little discussion.

“You're not married—yet!” Clementine insisted. “Get over there!”

“It's just for maiden's, Clementine,” Miranda reminded her. “I'm a long ways from being a maiden.”

“So what!?” Clem insisted. “The point is; you're not married now, so get in there and catch the bouquet!”

“You're not married either!” Miranda pointedly pointed out. “If I'm getting in there, then so are you!”

“That's different!” Clem argued the point.

“How is it different?”

“I don't want to get married! You do!! Now get in there!”

Clem gave her friend a shove. Randa took a couple of steps forward but stopped and turned back to send a grumpy look back at her. Clem shooed at her and Miranda gave in. She smiled a little self-consciously but then did discreetly join the group of giggling maidens who were all awaiting their chance at married bliss.

“Well Kid, this is it,” Heyes turned to his cousin, still not looking too pleased with the situation. “At least send me a telegram when you get to Silky's and another one when you get back from the cabin. Okay?”

Jed smiled. “Yeah, okay Heyes. I will.”

“Okay. See ya' in a couple of weeks.” The two friends gave each other a quick hug and some back slaps. “You be good to your wife,” Heyes told him. “Don't you go scarein' her or nothing.”

“Me scare her?” Jed asked incredulously. “I'm thinkin' I'm the one who's gonna be havin' a hard time keepin' up! But I sure don't mind tryin'! Oh! Hi Jesse!”

“Jed,” Jesse smiled knowingly and shook the hand of his new son-in-law. “Take care. We'll see you in a couple of weeks.”

“Yeah.”

Then he turned to find himself in Belle's embrace.

“Thaddeus,” she whispered to him. “I'm trusting you with precious cargo. You bring both of you back home safe. You hear?”

Jed smiled and kissed her on the cheek. “I will.”

Jed stepped forward and taking Beth's hand he assisted her up into the carriage. Beth smiled and waved at everyone, really enjoying her time in the lime light.

“C'mon Beth! Throw the bouquet!”

“This way!”

“Throw it to me!”

“Hang on!” Beth laughed. “Let me get settled!”

“NO! You have to turn around and throw it over your back!”

“Yes, I know! Just a minute!”

Beth made a quick scrutiny of the gathering before her and made a mental note of where Miranda was standing. She had her own ideas as to who would be the lucky lady to catch the bride's bouquet! She turned around, steadied herself and took a mental aim before heaving the flowers over her shoulder and sending them airborne!

There followed high shrieks of laughter as everybody clamoured for the floral treasure! Beth's aim was dead on and the bouquet arched unerringly in Miranda's direction. It would probably have hit her right in the face if Isabelle hadn't dashed in front of her and snatched that bouquet right out of the air. There followed groans of disappointment from the unlucky ladies while Isabelle sent a triumphant look back at a rather startled Miranda, then smiled coyly over at her date.

Harry grinned and puffed himself up like a pheasant during the mating dance. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to have met such a charming young woman who actually seemed to genuinely enjoy his company. If he had known that the Kid's wedding was going to procure him such a fine prospect he would have taken more interest in the whole affair!

Heyes smiled and gave a slight groan when he saw Miranda being cheated out of what was 'rightfully her's', but clapped along with everyone else as Isabelle sashayed over to her 'man' and smiled sweetly at him. Her eyelashes were working over time.

Heyes came over to the carriage then to assist Miranda to step up into it. “Goodnight,” he said to her as he gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “I'm going to be busy tomorrow, but perhaps we can get together for lunch the next day.”

Miranda smiled. “Yes. I would like that. Thank you for a wonderful day.”

“Oh, thank you,” Heyes returned to her. “It was a good day, wasn't it.”

“Yes.”

“Move along, move along,” David teased them as he shuffled through the couple in order to hand a still sleeping Nathan up to his Uncle Jed. “Time some of us got home to bed!”

“Yes David. Goodnight,” Heyes told him, then he smiled back at his date again. “Good night. I'll see you in a couple of days.”

“Goodnight, Hannibal.” 

Heyes offered his hand and she got settled in the carriage. He stepped aside to allow David to assist Tricia up and then the good doctor followed suit.

“Goodnight Hannibal,” he said. “Keep up the stretching.”

Heyes groaned. “Yes David!”

He gave one more final wave to that party only to turn around and find that Sister Julia was settled into her surrey and Jesse was just about to hand in a sleeping Sally. Heyes hotfooted it over to the group before they got underway.

“Sister!” he called to her. “You didn't think you were going to leave without a hug did you?”

“Well no,” she admitted with a smile. “I knew you'd get to me eventually.”

Heyes pulled himself up onto the foot step and leaned in to give the Sister a hug. “Be sure to thank Dr. Slosson for the music. That was very thoughtful of her.”

“I will Joshua,” Julia assured him. “It was very nice to see you again. Please come and visit us when you can. I know Laramie isn't exactly your favourite place to be, but we would all love to see you.”

“I will Sister,” Heyes promised her. “There are enough people in Laramie who I do enjoy visiting with so it's hardly an imposition.”

“Good.” Sister Julia smiled at him. “And by all means, bring your young lady. She and Sally really seemed to hit it off.”

Heyes laughed. “Yes! I'm sure they did.” But he glanced back at the sleeping child and his smile softened. He gently stroked her hair and said a quiet 'goodnight' to her. “Goodbye Sister. Say 'hello' to everyone back at the orphanage for me.”

“I will,” the Sister agreed. “Goodbye Joshua. Goodbye everyone!”

“Goodbye!”

She clucked to the little harness horse and he eagerly picked up the trot in order to catch up with the carriage ahead of him. Everyone was heading for home and he for one was ready for it.

A number of other carriage and buckboards and surreys, and gentlemen on horseback began to make their departures. Everybody waving and hollering 'goodbye's' and 'Had a great time', 'Let's get together for tea sometime!' Etc. Etc.  
Harry's surrey trotted by next with Isabelle waving her bouquet and Harry looking pleased as punch.

“See ya' later Heyes!” Harry called out to him. “Fine party—yessir!”

Heyes waved back to them and carried on down to the next group who were preparing to leave.

“Lom,” Heyes greeted him. “I'm glad you could make it.”

“Yeah,” Lom agreed. “Good to see the Kid settling down.”

“Yup.”

“How are you doing Heyes?” Lom asked him. “You settling down now too?”

Heyes shrugged a little self-consciously. “I donno Lom. Maybe.”

“Uh huh. Well, you be sure to let me know what your plans are.”

“Yeah, I will.” Heyes smiled and shook his friend's hand and then tipped his head to the lady. “Martha, it was a real pleasure to meet you, ma'am. I can see why Lom finally decided to tie the knot.”

Martha smiled. “It was fortuitous for both of us,” she said. “I hope you'll come and visit us at some point. And bring your young lady with you.”

Heyes smiled. This seemed to be the on-going theme. It appears he had created a monster. “Yes ma'am, I'll do that.”

Lom climbed aboard and with a final nod to his friend, he slapped the horse's rump with the lines and the surrey jolted into motion and followed in line with the other departing guests.

“We're gonna head out too there Heyes,” Wheat announced as he and Kyle rode up to him. “We got us our own little party goin' on in town. Don't we Kyle!”

“Yeah!” Kyle ginned. “Our night's jest beginnin'!”

“Oh,” Heyes looked a little disappointed. 

“Oh, not that this wasn't fun too!” Wheat quickly added on. “Real nice shindig.”

“Yeah,” Kyle agreed. “Everything was reel purdy!”

“Yeah, okay,” Heyes accepted that. “You fellas gonna be in town for a few days?”

“Ahh, well, ah I donno,” Wheat shifted uncomfortably in his saddle. “Depends on when Lom's goin'.”

“Oh?” Heyes asked, his brow creasing.

“Yeah, ah we're gonna be heading back with Lom and his wife to Porterville,” Wheat explained. “We still got some jobs ta to fer him—until you need us, that is.”

“Oh. Well that's fine,” Heyes assured them, though at this moment he was starting to feel a little abandoned. “Lom's keeping you busy is he?”

“Well, yeah.”

“An' Ms. Trevors is teachin' me ta' read!” Kyle announced with a grin.

“Yeah, I know Kyle,” Heyes reminded him. “That's good.”

“So...we'll be seein' ya' around Heyes,” Wheat assured him. “You just let us know when you're ready.”

Heyes smiled. “Yes I will fellas. Thanks for coming.”

“Yeah. Be seein' ya'!”

The two partners nudged their horses into a gallop and they headed off for town, soon leaving the slower moving vehicles in their dust.

“Well Heyes, I finally got the brood settled into the wagon.”

Heyes smiled and shook the warden's hand. “Kenny. I'm glad you could make it.”

“Me too. It was quite an experience for everyone.”

Heyes laughed. “Yes! It was, wasn't it!”

“So I'll see you tomorrow, around 11:00?”

“Yeah. Sounds good Kenny. I'll look forward to it. I think you'll be impressed.”

“Well, if they're anything like that mare of yours, I think I will be,” Kenny agreed. “Take it easy.”

“Yeah.” Heyes smiled over at Sarah who was sitting on the seat of the wagon with a sleeping Evelyn in her arms. “Goodnight Sarah. Glad you could make it.”

“Goodnight Hannibal.”

“Fellas, take it easy.” Heyes waved at the boys sprawled out in the bed of the wagon. “I'll see you again soon.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Heyes.”

“Thanks for all the outlawin' stories!”

“Bye!”

Last but not least, Sam got his family ready and settled in for the trip home. Jesse and Belle came out to see them off just as the sun was setting and the day was winding down.

“We'll see you day after tomorrow, Sam,” Jesse reminded him. “You worked really hard today and I think we all could do with a day to recuperate.”

“Oh, yessir, Mr. Jordan.” Sam smiled tiredly. “That'll be real nice.”

“Goodbye Merle, Maribelle.” Belle waved to them. “Thank you for all your help today.”

“Goodnight!”

“You did a wonderful job today Carol,” Belle told the young lady. “I know Beth was very happy to have you here.”

Carol smiled through tired eyes. “Yes Mrs. Jordan. Thank you,” she mumbled sleepily. “I enjoyed myself as well.”

Belle was about to say 'goodnight' to Todd but noticed that he was already asleep; it had been a very exhausting day for the children!

Jesse, Belle, Bridget, Clementine, Steven and Heyes all stood and waved goodbye to the last departing wagon and then all of them let loose a big relieved sigh at the same time.

“Oh my goodness,” Belle exclaimed as she leaned into her husbands arms. “What a day!”

“I think it went well though, didn't it?” Jesse commenting, nodding at everyone to agreed.

“Oh yes!” Heyes was quick on the uptake. “It went very well.”

“Not a single glitch,” Bridget commented.

“And the children were all so very well behaved,” came Steven's contribution.

There was a beat of silence as they all exchanged glances and then everyone broke out laughing.

“Tea anyone?” Belle enquired.

“YES!”

 

The carriage ride back into Brookswood was anything but sedate. Though most of the revellers were tired by this time, Beth and Jed's exuberance was infectious. The laughing and joking carried on all the way to town while shouts and comments got tossed back and forth between the various vehicles.

Eventually Beth looked over at Miranda who had settled into a quiet smile and the two friends locked eyes. Beth smiled over at her.

“I'm sorry you didn't catch the bouquet,” Beth told her. “I tried to aim it towards you, but....”

Miranda's smile grew into a grin. “That's alright. It's just an 'old wives tale' anyways. And perhaps Isabelle will get married before me. And that's alright too.”

“But still, now that you know Hannibal's true feelings, don't you want things to move ahead?” Beth couldn't understand the other woman's lack of urgency.

“I'm not in any hurry,” Miranda assured the young bride. “You forget Beth; I've been married before. It's not the same thing the second time around. It's still thrilling when you find new love, but it's more relaxed; you're not in such a hurry. Hannibal may have simply got caught up in the day and didn't really mean anything by it.”

Jed snorted while Beth and Tricia both rolled their eyes.

“What?” Miranda asked, innocently. “He did say that seeing how happy you were Jed, made him want it himself but that he wasn't ready, so I don't mind waiting until he is ready. What's wrong with that?”

“Nothin',” Jed agreed. “But Heyes don't usually do something that drastic if he ain't ready. Even if he don't know he's ready.”

“Well, I did kind of trick him into it,” Miranda admitted with a coy smile. “Told him that he was just afraid of committing and that he would get around to showing his true feelings when he was ready.”

“Yup,” Kid agreed. “And obviously he did.”

“Yes, alright!” Miranda laughed. “Maybe I'm just still in shock. We're getting together again in a couple of days. I'll have a better idea then just how serious he was. Will that satisfy you all?”

“Yes, I suppose.” Beth sighed. “But that means I have to wait two whole weeks before finding out for sure! That's not fair!”

“I have a feeling you're going to be busy enough Beth,” Tricia pointed out. “Those two weeks are going to go by fast enough.”

“Well, not too fast!” Jed commented. 

“No,” Beth agreed quietly with a shy smile. “Definitely not too fast.”

David swung the team of greys around to Miranda's residence first and dropped her off at her front steps.

“Good night everyone!” she declared as Jed gave her a hand out of the carriage. “You two have a good time, wherever it is you're going! And don't worry about Hannibal, I'm sure I'll be keeping him busy.”

“I'm sure you will,” Jed teased gently as he gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Miranda,” Tricia said. “I'll look forward to lunch with you and Amy tomorrow—so don't you go telling her everything tonight! I want to be a part of that!”

“Don't worry about that!” Miranda assured her cousin. “Even if Amy isn't asleep by now, I'm dead on my feet. We can both fill her in on the day's events tomorrow.”

“Good!”

Next stop was the Gibson residence itself. Jed took over the lines while David carried Nathan into the house. He returned a few moments later to drive the newlyweds on to the the hotel and then return the rig to the livery.

The way to the hotel was anything but quiet as the various townsfolk who were out and about spied the decorated carriage and yelled and waved their greetings and congratulations to the couple. Beth was beaming with such joy and pride and she returned the waves with youthful exuberance. Jed just tended to smile and tip his hat. He had other things on his mind as he watched his beautiful bride rejoice in her new status.

By the time David pulled up in front of the hotel, all the other guests who were staying there had already arrived and retired to their own rooms. This of course had been part of the plan so that the young couple would have privacy and discretion upon their entrance.

David tethered the team and removed their luggage from the boot while Jed helped his wife out of the carriage.

“Okay.” David smiled at his friend. “Need any help?”

Jed grinned. “No David, I think I can handle things from here.”

“Alright, just asking.”

“Yeah.”

David grinned and shook Jed's hand. “Goodnight,” he said. “Have a good time on your vacation and don't worry about anything here. Just have fun.”

“We will,” Jed assured him.

David kissed Beth on the cheek. “Congratulations Beth. See you both in a couple of weeks.”

Jed picked up their bags of luggage, nodded a farewell to his friend and followed his wife into the hotel lobby. 

They approached the check-in counter to find Albertto still recovering from the influx of guests and looked up not at all surprised at the arrival of the married couple.

“Ah, Mr. and Mrs Curry, I take it?” he tried to be elegant.

“You know who we are, Albert,” Jed reminded him, but Beth grinned her pleasure. She was never going to get enough of people referring to her as Mrs. Curry. “You remember to reserve that room for us?”

“Nope,” Albertto admitted.

The Kid's expression turned dangerous. “What do you mean 'Nope'!? You better not be telling me that you don't have a room for us!”

“I ain't tellin' you that at all!” Albertto assured the ex-outlaw. “I got a room for ya'--just not the one you reserved!”

“Well what in tarnation room is it then!?”

“306,” Albertto informed him. “Top floor, at the back. Looking over the pastures.”

Jed did a quick calculation in his head then he frowned. “That's the best suite you got in this place! I can't afford that.”

“You ain't payin' for it!” the hotel clerk informed him. 

Kid looked at him with a certain amount of exasperation. “Well then who is payin' for it!?”

Albertto opened up his ledger and did a quick scan. “Ahh, let me see here. Ah, Dr. Gibson, Mr. Heyes and Mr. Granger all had a hand in reserving and paying for that room for you and your bride for tonight.”

Jed was taken aback, his frustration instantly dissipating. “Oh,” he commented. “Well why didn't ya' say so?”

“I just did!”

Jed leaned in towards the clerk, trying to be discreet. “There ain't no surprises waitin' for us up there, is there? Nothin' going to jump out from behind the wardrobe or anything?”

Albertto looked insulted. “Of course not! You will find some flowers and a nice bottle of champagne waiting up there for you and breakfast in your suite tomorrow morning has also been ordered and paid for by your friends.” He raised his eyebrows pointedly. “And that's all!”

“Oh, how lovely!” Beth exclaimed. “Champagne! And a private breakfast! How sweet of them!”

“Yeah, okay.” Jed let down his guard. “That does sound nice.”

“Indeed,” Albertto agreed haughtily. “Shall I have your bags taken up?”

“Please,” Jed nodded.

 

Twenty minutes later the couple were tucked nicely away in the privacy of the very elegant 'bridal suite', and as far as they were concerned; the night was still young.

Jed had one moment of uncertainty as they followed the 'bell hop' down the hallway towards their suite door. He knew it was traditional to carry his bride across the threshold, but was it the threshold of the hotel suite, or the threshold of their home? He decided to play it safe and do both if needs be. It wasn't as though Beth was a heavyweight after all so it would hardly be an imposition.

The young lad who was carrying their luggage stopped at the door to their suite, put his burdens down and unlocked the door. He quickly stepped inside and placed the luggage back down again on the floor  
and then turned in anticipation of a tip. Young Mr. Albertto Jr. found himself alone in the room and stepped back out into the hallway and quickly looked away with embarrassment.

Jed had already scooped his bride up into his arms and they were involved in a rather passionate kiss before even stepping across the threshold.

“Oh! Ah....I'll....” the young man stammered. “Oh, never mind. Ahh....have a nice evening....”

The kiss carried on as Jed brought them both into the room and he used his foot to deftly shut the door behind them. He made his way over towards the large canopied bed and set his bride upon it as they both allowed their passions to rise up and finally be allowed free rein.

They laid down on the bed, their hands desperately holding and caressing one another while their kisses became more intense and demanding.

Finally though, Beth was noticing some discomfort and had to break away from her husband.

“No, wait a minute,” she told him. “The hair comb in digging into my head!”

“We can't have that,” Jed whispered seductively, kissing her gently on the forehead.

He took the opportunity then to step off the bed and pull his lady up with him and they stood for a moment, just staring at one another.

Finally Jed smiled and he reached his hands around behind her head and removed the rather worn out looking comb.

“I don't think we're going to be needing this anymore tonight anyways,” he predicted.

He set the comb aside and turned Beth around so that her back was to him. He slowly began to let down her chignon until the french braid hung straight down her back and he leaned in and began to kiss the back of her neck. She cringed and giggled with the ticklishness of it and smiling, Jed began to gently work the braid out until Beth's long blonde hair came loose and fell over her shoulders and down her back.

“How's that?” he whispered in her ear while he slowly ran his fingers through her locks, caressing her while he pulled out what as left of the braid.

She smiled and sighed. “Better.”

“Good.”

He gathered the long tresses into one hand and softly draped them over her shoulder. Slowly he began the intricate task of unfastening all those small white pearl buttons that ran down the back of the wedding dress. He continued to kiss the back of her neck throughout this whole endeavour and Beth sighed, her body trembling as her passion started to rise—they'd waited so long and now Jed was forcing her to wait longer but she was enjoying every minute of it.

Finally Jed reached the last button and sliding his hands back up to Beth's shoulders he slid them under the material and gently pushed the dress off so that it fell in a soft rustling to the floor. Jed allowed his hands to carrying on off her shoulders and down to her breasts and cradled them in his hands, feeling their fullness through the material of her undergarment. She groaned and leaned back into him, feeling his arousal and wanting him to hurry up but at the same time not wanting to leave this over-whelming moment.

He leaned in again and continued to kiss her neck while his fingers moved in and gently pinched her nipples. Her breath came in as a gasp and she arched her back against him. His kissing on the back of her neck morphed into gentle nipping as he tightened the pinch and began to roll her erect nipples between his fingers.

Beth moaned as her breathing picked up. What he was doing to her hurt, but it was such a heavenly hurt and she wanted more. Then there it was again, that aching in her gut and that feeling that something was coming—something was being pushed out of her. She arched her back even more and her hands reached around and grasped hold of Jed's pant legs as the first of soon to be many orgasms escaped her.

She was amazed that it had happened so quickly this time—they weren't even fully undressed yet! Indeed, Jed was still fully clothed and he didn't appear to be in any hurry at all to dispose of his apparel; he was too focused on hers.

She was barely coming down off her spasm when Jed put his hands back to work in undoing the lace ties of her petticoat. It didn't take long at all before that garment was released and allowed to drop to the floor to nestle in on top of the dress. She was naked now from the waist up and Jed turned her to face him and she stood there in his gaze, revelling in his appreciation.

He moved in and passionately kissed her on the mouth, pressing her close, crushing her breasts up against him. His hands went around behind her and slipping them in between her buttocks and the bloomers he slid that garment down around her ankles, bending his knees and sliding down with them. He took hold of one ankle and lifted it up and out from the discarded material. Beth placed her hands on his shoulders to balance herself and stepped away from the clothing.

Jed slowly stood up, enjoying the view along the way and then kissed her again, caressing her buttocks. Finally, with his own breath shuttering he stepped back and looked with admiring eyes upon his bride. Beth stood before him and allowed his gaze to drink in her form. She felt vulnerable in a way that she was completely naked in front of his eyes and all he had discarded somewhere along the way was his jacket. But in another way it was wildly erotic, as though she were totally in his control and he was going to have his way with her whether she liked it or not. 

“Do you trust me, Beth?” he softly asked her.

“Of course,” she whispered back. “How could I not?”

“Because I want to do something to you that you may think offensive,” he told her. “but if you trust me and relax, I think you'll like it.”

She smiled with wicked anticipation. “I trust you,” she reiterated.

Jed smiled. “Okay. If you want me to stop, at any time—just say so.”

He gently sat her down on the edge of the bed and kneeling he pushed himself between her legs and held her close so that she was straddling him. He kissed her passionately on the mouth and then made his way down, kissing her throat and then that spot at the base of her neck. One hand came up and played with a nipple while his warm mouth found her other one and sent her into heaven.

He lingered there for a few moments before continuing on down, kissing her tummy and then spreading her legs even more he gazed upon her blonde bush and the treasures that were waiting within. He brought his hands down, caressing her inner thighs and she spread her legs further, inviting him in while at the same time wondering what he was planning, considering the fact that he was still fully dressed.

His hand glided away from her thigh, approached her center and pushed into her warm wetness. She gasped and arched her back even more. Next thing she knew her body took control and she was laying on her back, across the bed and her feet came up to rest on Jed's shoulders, tempting him with even easier access. She wanted him now so badly. What was he doing? Why didn't he get undressed—or at the very least release that bulge in his pants so they could get down to business!?

She closed her eyes in erotic ecstasy as she felt Jed's hands caress her center, and then spreading the lips apart he set back and gazed upon her most vulnerable assets. Her excitement increased, knowing that he was looking at her down there, knowing that he was admiring and caressing that 'forbidden' zone and she was lost in the passion of it.

Then her eyes opened wide in surprise as she felt the wet warmth of his tongue indulging in her most private area. Her first thought was that she should pull away, that this was disgusting! But she couldn't do it! It was heaven! She had never imagined anything like this before! He sucked on her and then gently nibbled on a button she never knew she had. Electric bolts of pleasure, almost too intense to be handled but too ecstatic to turn away from, shot through her and encompassed her mind.

She couldn't believe what he was doing! She couldn't believe how it made her feel! Mama never told me about THIS!

She gasped and squirmed, her hands instinctively going to his head, holding it in place—not wanting him to stop. He dug in, holding her hips and going after her for all he was worth. Her orgasm came like a whirlwind! She exploded in an eruption of sensations she'd never experienced before and Jed held on and kept her going while her body bucked and screamed and threatened to turn inside out! All of a sudden and somewhat to her disappointment, her body began to jerk in spasms as the orgasm released and what had been wildly pleasurable was suddenly too sensitive to the touch.

Jed backed off and standing up he gazed down upon her with a wild look of desperation about him. Faster than Beth would have though possible he pulled his own clothing off and kicked them aside to join her pile of satin and lace that was piled on the floor. He wasted no time, but came down on top of her, pulling her up further onto the bed so that they lay fully across it. His mouth came down on hers as she spread herself open for him and she felt him push his point home.  
She could taste herself on his lips, on his tongue, on his breath and she enveloped it. She could feel him inside of her, thrusting hard now that passion had taken full control and suddenly she know what the ladies had meant. This was not gentle, this was not kind, but she didn't care; she wanted him to be brutal, she wanted him to hurt her—and he did.

Three hours later, the bed was in total disarray. Two naked bodies sat with their legs stretched out before them, their backs propped up against the head board with pillows supporting them there. They both held a glass of champagne and sat staring straight ahead with mildly dazed expressions on their faces.

“That was amazing,” Beth quietly commented as she took a sip of champagne.

Jed simply nodded.

 

Knock! Knock! Knock! “Good morning!” came the cheerful greeting from out in the hallway.

Jed groaned and stretched, then groaned again. He blinked his eyes open and looked blearily towards the door of their suite.

“Good morning! Breakfast!” came the muffled greeting again.

Jed groaned a third time and dropped his head back down on the pillow. He glanced over at his wife but she was still sleeping soundly. He wondered foggily what time it was.

“Good morning!”

“Just a minute....” Jed slurred. “Just...give me a minute....”

Jed rolled himself off the bed and stood up. Oh my goodness—his legs felt like wet noddles! He ran a hand through his curls and scratched his scalp. A big yawn emerged from his lungs. He looked around and grabbed one of the sheets that was strewn across the floor to wrap around himself and cover his nakedness.

He stumbled over to the door and opened it a creak. He was met with the smiling face of Albertto, who grinned even wider at his guest and indicated the tray beside him, laden with covered dishes, and a coffee pot.

“Breakfast!” he announced.

Jed moaned again. “Are you related to Heyes, by any chance?”

Albertto looked confused. “Mr Heyes? I do not think so. Why would you think I am related to that outlaw?”

Jed sighed and rubbed his hands across his eyes. “Never mind,” he mumbled. “What time is it?”

“It is six o'clock in the morning!” Albertto announced proudly.

“What!?” Jed exclaimed quietly. “What are you wakin' me up so early for!?”

“Your friend, Mr. Heyes said to,” Albertto explained happily. “He said you have a busy day today, you must be up early. I have breakfast for you!”

Jed groaned yet again but the smell of fresh coffee was beginning to make its way through his senses.

“Okay,” he mumbled. “Just leave it out there will ya'?” 

“I should bring it in and pour your coffee for you!”

“Look, my wife ain't even up yet!” Jed almost yelled at him. “You ain't comin' in. Just leave the tray and I'll get it.”

“Oh.” Albertto smiled. “As you wish. Enjoy!”

“Yeah, uh huh.”

“Who was that?” Beth's mumbled enquiry came from the bed.

“Heyes,” Jed grumbled as he closed the door on the hotel manager.

Beth stretched and rubbed her eyes as she tried to wake up. She looked at her husband with a confused expression. “Hannibal is here?”

“No,” Jed assured her. “Just his ghost.”

She smiled at him. “You make it sound like he's dead.”

“He's gonna be the next time I see him.”

Jed re-opened the door and peeked out just to make sure the manager was gone, then he opened it wider and pulled the breakfast laden trolley into the room. He shut the door again and pushed the trolley over to the table beside the bed.

“Want some coffee?” he asked.

“Ohh yes.” Beth stretched again and Jed smiled as he watched her from the corner of his eye. “I'm starving!”

“Well, now that you mention it, I guess I'm kinda hungry too.”

She sat up and pulled the remaining blanket up around herself to ward off the early morning chill. Jed handed her a cup of coffee, poured one for himself and then went back around to his side of the bed and settled in beside his wife again. They smiled at each other and taped cups.

“Good morning,” Jed said to her.

She smiled shyly. “Good morning.”

 

Heyes was in the barn helping Sam put away the next weeks worth of feed when they heard the horse and carriage coming into the yard. Both men stopped heaving sacks of grain onto the pile and headed outdoors to greet the visitors.

Kenny spotted them and turned the horse's head towards the barn so Sam could get hold of the bridle to help steady the vehicle so the small party could disembark. Heyes approached them, all smiles and dirt, pulling off his work gloves to shake Kenny's hand.

“Hey Kenny! Just in time!” Heyes greeted him.

“Morning Heyes,” Kenny returned it as he helped Sarah to step down.

“Hello Sarah, oh and Miss Evelyn.” Heyes smiled at them. “The boys not join you?”

Sarah gave a long suffering sigh. “No. It seems they'd rather spend their time roaming the streets and shops of Brookswood that come a visit with fine folks.”

Heyes' only comment was a smile. A secret rendezvous with certain Johnston ladies was more likely their motivation for having the day to themselves.

“I know Belle has a nice lunch ready.” Heyes changed the direction of the conversation. “Why don't we all head into the house.”

Sam led the team and carriage into the barn while the company made their way across the yard.

“Did Jed and Beth get away alright?” Sarah asked. “We didn't see them in the hotel restaurant for breakfast.”

Heyes' smile held a wicked tint to it. “Oh, I'm sure they caught their train with plenty of time to spare, ma'am.” His smile broadened. “Actually I'm quite positive of it.”

Lunch was quickly taken care of with left-overs from the day before making up most of the fare and the conversation tended to lean towards the previous day's events and speculation as to where Jed was taking his bride for the honeymoon. Jesse and Heyes smiled quietly but played along with the deception that they were just as much in the dark as everyone else. Not that they thought that anyone at the table this day would cause any trouble for the newlyweds, but casual comments can lead to problems, so best to just keep quiet.

“Which horse is Kenny going to ride today Sam?” Heyes enquired as lunch wound down. “I know there's a couple out there with nothing to do.”

“I was going to give him Berry,” Sam informed him. “Spike needs new shoes and I'll be tending to that this afternoon. Berry hasn't been out for awhile so it'll be good for him.”

“Hmm, yeah,” Heyes nodded agreement.

“How long do you think you'll be?” Belle asked.

Heyes and Jesse exchanged looks.

“If they're where I expect them to be you fellas should be back in time for supper,” Jesse speculated.

“That's what I figure,” Heyes agreed.

“Wonderful!” Belle exclaimed. “That's give us ladies plenty of time to visit!”

“Well, I'll go out and get the horses saddled up for you,” Sam announced as he excused himself from the table. “Thank you for lunch Mrs. Jordan.”

“You're very welcome, Sam.” Belle smiled after him as he left. “He has certainly turned himself into a fine young man.”

“Hmm,” was Heyes' only comment to that.

Jesse sent him a suspicious look. Belle was more forthcoming.

“Oh come now Joshua!” she admonished him. “You can't still be holding a grudge!”

“No, no!” Heyes insisted with a hint of moodiness, but then he smiled. “No. You're right. He's a decent enough fellow. I don't blame him anymore.”

“For what?” Sarah asked, totally confused. “Belle is right; he seems a fine young man.”

“Sam was part of the operation that ended up sending Han to prison,” Jesse explained. “But he has long since made amends for that—hasn't he Hannibal.”

Heyes' smile broadened. “Yes Jesse, he has! Shall we go?” he quickly added as an attempt to get himself out of the hot-seat.

Jesse and Kenny exchanged smiles.

“Yes,” Kenny agreed. “I'm looking forward to seeing this herd.”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “Experience tells me that you two will be gone for hours!” She leaned over to Belle conspiratorially. “Once he gets talking about horses he looses all track of time!”

Belle laughed. “Yes, tell me about it! Beth is the same way.”

“Then it's best we get started!” Heyes announced. “We'll see you folks around supper time.” 

 

“Your boss has some fine looking horses here,” Kenny commented as they surveyed the small group of bachelor colts that was grazing down on the mesa. 

Heyes smiled and gave a small chuckle.

“What?” Kenny asked, confused as to why Heyes would think that compliment humourous.

“Oh, just referring to Jesse as my boss,” Heyes explained. He sighed and contemplated that term. “I think of Jesse in a lot of different ways; friend, benefactor....” he chuckled again. “...surrogate father. I never really thought of him as my boss before though.”

“I'd say he's all of the above,” Kenny surmised. “Like all of us though, he's committed to helping you to succeed and he's not a man you would want to disappoint.”

“No!” Heyes agreed to that whole-heartedly. “He's brought me to task more than once—funny thing is; I don't resent him for it. Hmm, come to think of it, David as let me have it a few times too and I've not only put up with it but actually try to abide by what they're saying. Used to be anybody challenge me like that it would end up in a fist fight. I must be getting soft.”

“Or growing up,” Kenny surmised. “You're not dealing with outlaws anymore Heyes; you're dealing with honest, hard working folks who are expecting you to measure up.” He smiled. “Being the intelligent man that you are, you're reaching for the level that's been raised. You're always going to feel out of sorts when you step out of your comfort space but it's a positive thing.”

Heyes contemplated that explanation for a moment and decided that it sounded better than his surmise that he was going soft. “Jesse Jordan is a good man and I'm proud to be a member of his family.” He grinned. “And he does have some fine horses!”

“Yes.” Kenny picked up the conversation back where it had started. “My father would have been envious.”

“Oh, that's right,” Heyes recalled. “You did say your father raised the finest horses in all the southern states!”

Then both men voiced together; “According to him!”

They laughed and then settled down to quietly watching the herd as they grazed and mingled about with one another. Karma and Berry were both taking advantage of the respite and had lowered their heads to join their equine soul-mates in a grazing frenzy. The two men sat quietly, enjoying the warm sunny day and the soft breeze that played gently with the horses' manes.

“I'm glad we got some time here in private Heyes,” Kenny finally commented. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Oh?” Heyes furrowed his brow; Kenny never wasted words on things that weren't important so the younger man instantly sat up and took notice. “What about?”

Kenny sighed deeply as though the subject he was about to bring up wasn't an easy one for him, but that had never stopped him in the past and it wasn't going to now. “It's about your parole. I want to be sure you understand why the governor didn't see fit to lift it.”

“Oh,” Heyes mumbled. He couldn't help but hang his head as the hurt of that news hit him afresh. He set his jaw and absently began to play with Karma's mane. “They still want to make me pay. I suppose I can't blame them for that.”

“No Heyes,” Kenny assured him. “That's not the reason. I went to speak to Mr. Ludlow to see if I could persuade him and the governor to reconsider.” Heyes watched him intently, but Kenny just shook his head and shrugged. “I'm afraid he was adamant and would not back down. And I'm sorry, but in some ways I can see his point.” Kenny returned Heyes' gaze, trying to judge the man's mood. “We all want you to succeed but after what happened in Joplin Mr. Ludlow just doesn't think you're ready to be totally on your own yet.”

Heyes sat back and took a deep breath, feeling as though he's just been slapped in the face.

“I know you're probably feeling angry right now,” Kenny continued. “Maybe you feel like we've all betrayed you, but believe me Heyes; nothing could be further from the truth.”

Heyes sat silently, staring out at the herd of horses while he struggled to keep his emotions under control. Karma tensed slightly when she felt his stress but she continued to graze as he stroked her neck and distractedly ran his fingers through her mane.

“Why?” he finally forced out. “How could you side with them!? You knew how important it was to me.”

“Yes, I did know,” Kenny admitted. “And I'm not siding with them Heyes. If Mrs. Stewart had been willing to stay here to be with you and to allow you to be a father to your daughter, no one would have been more pleased than me. But my priority is to you. Not to Mrs. Stewart and not to your daughter—but to you.   
“In the long run the governor and Mr. Ludlow may have saved your family more heart-ache and unhappiness by refusing your request. You're not ready yet Heyes. There's just something in the way your mind works—I suppose because you never really developed that inner voice that told you right from wrong. During those important teen years when the brain should have been developing that sense all you could think about was survival; right and wrong didn't play into it.  
“Now it's just not there. You need guidelines placed onto you in order to help you develop that sense. You can't do it on your own. Somebody pushes you too hard and you don't stop to consider, you just instantly push back without any thought to the consequences. You need support from the people around you, people who know you, people who will let you know when you're on the wrong track. And even more to the point; you need to learn how to listen to them.”

“Who better than Abi to do that?” Heyes asked, not being able to hide his bitterness. “Dammit! She was a Pinkerton's! She was always after me to stay 'legal'! Who better than her to keep me honest!?”

“She wasn't able to keep you honest in Joplin,” Kenny quietly pointed out. “You lost control Heyes, you threw everything to the wind all for revenge. You're damned lucky you didn't end up killing Mitchell because your friends wouldn't have been able to cover that up quite so easily.”

“Cover what up? I didn't....”

“Oh Bullshit!” Kenny's voice rose in his anger and both horses jumped and stopped grazing for a millisecond. Heyes had enough decency to look contrite. “You and I both know that when you take a shot at something, even a moving target—you don't miss! You might not be as fast as Jed but you are damned accurate, so don't give me this crap that you didn't do anything!  
“Mrs. Stewart I can understand covering for you—but Mr. Atwater!? He seemed a very competent agent when I spoke with him and goodness knows that Sheehan is no dope and yet you got away with it.”

Kenny sat quietly for a moment collecting his thoughts. Trying to find a way to explain things in such a way that his friend would understand.

“Even with your friends around you, trying to help you, it wasn't enough,” Kenny continued. “I know you're trying; I saw that at the prison and I see it now and when things are running smoothly you seem to be able to judge the situation alright. But as soon as you're put under pressure you push through all the barriers and charge head-long into a wreck. The only thing that scared you, the only thing that made you stop and think that maybe you had stepped too far was the realization that you could be heading back to prison.  
“Don't you see Heyes? If your parole was lifted and you were free too disappear you would have nothing to keep you honest. You still need to have that solid structure around you; that knowledge of dire consequences if you stray from the path. Something that is going to force you to stop and consider what you're doing before you do it; it's going to push you to really consider right and wrong and then act accordingly. That's why such a strict parole was placed on you in the first place.  
“It takes a long time to change the way a person's mind works, but hopefully in time and with the right incentive you'll start to recognize right from wrong in your own mind and you won't need these guidelines placed on you anymore. Where you won't even have to think about it; you'll just know. It will have become ingrained in your subconscious mind.  
“Then and only then can you reach your potential as a husband and a father. How can you expect to teach a child right from wrong when you don't know the difference yourself?”

Heyes felt his resentment growing, felt that Kenny was talking down to him as though he were still an inmate at that insufferable prison!

“Abi and I love each other,” Heyes sniped, feeling his bitterness. “I love my daughter and I would never do anything to hurt her. Did it ever occur to the parole board that being with my family; that the love for my wife, for my daughter would have kept me honest!? Those high and mighty officials snatched that opportunity away from me without even giving me the chance!”

“You had the chance Heyes,” Kenny pointed out to him. “Not only with Mitchell, but with Carson as well. You had the chance on both those occasions to show that you could respect authority and play according to the rules, but you didn't. You ignored advice from your friends and orders from officials and simply went ahead and did what you wanted to do.”

“But I realized the mistake I made!” Heyes insisted, feeling like he was going to strangle his saddle horn and even though Karma continued to graze her ears repeatedly flicked back towards her human in some uncertainty. “I regretted what I had done—it was stupid, I know that now!”

“I can appreciate that,” Kenny agreed. “Which is why when Mr. Ludlow asked my opinion about easing up on the parole conditions so that you could open up a detective agency, I told him I was all for that. You'll still have restrictions on you; you'll still have to report in to Sheriffs Jacobs and Trevors—and to me! But as I told you before; I think it's a good idea.” He chuckled. “It'll give that brain of yours enough of a challenge to make it think it's up to no good but you'll still have the support of your friends to keep you honest.”

Heyes sighed and still didn't look too pleased with the things Kenny was saying to him. “Abi and Anya will still be gone,” he mumbled.

“You keep saying that like it's forever,” Kenny pointed out. “You don't know what the future holds. I told you that in prison and you didn't believe me but look where you are now. It might not be exactly where you want to be but it's a helluva lot better than where you were then.”

Heyes made no comment but just continued to play distractedly with Karma's mane.

“I doubt very much that you have lost your daughter completely,” Kenny continued. “It may not happen over-night, but I suspect you'll see her again.”

“Well what's to stop me Kenny!?” Heyes finally asked, still feeling resentful at others having so much control over his life. “What's to stop me from taking Abi and my daughter and simply disappearing!?”

“Nothing,” Kenny quietly admitted. “Other than the fact that I think Mrs. Steward is too sensible a woman to let you do it. And again Heyes, stop with the knee-jerk reaction and think about what you're saying. If you were to turn your back on all your friends, throw your parole out the window and run away, what kind of a life would that be for your family? What kind of an example would that be for your daughter?  
“No matter where you went you would be in a strange land with no prospects to help you get a foothold. You'd fall back onto your old ways and sooner or later you would end up in trouble again. And don't even think for a minute that the law in this country would simply stop looking for you, because they won't. You were too high profile a criminal Heyes; the law isn't going to just let you disappear, especially if you throw egg in their face by breaking your parole.  
“If you go south, you don't know the language and you wouldn't stand a chance of simply blending in with the locals. If you headed back to Mrs. Steward's homeland, well I don't know about you, but I wouldn't want to have Scotland Yard on my trail.”

Despite Heyes' simmering anger a sudden memory of Mr. Finney flashed into his mind. A quiet, unassuming man; someone who could be easily over-looked as not being of any importance. Until you got to know him a little bit and you realized that underneath the soft-spoken manner was an intelligent and tenacious law officer. No, Heyes thought. Not at all someone who he'd want on his trail.

“There's also one other reason why I hope you won't make that choice Heyes,” Kenny continued on. “Running away is how you and Jed used to deal with the difficulties that came up in your lives. Jed has learned how to stand his ground and face those difficulties now—he's not running anymore. I had hoped that was a choice you would also come to make.  
“You gave your word Heyes. You promised to abide by the conditions of your parole in order to get out of prison. You knew what those conditions were—nothing was held back from you and you agreed to accept them. We; your friends also signed that contract in solidarity and in good faith of your determination to turn your life around.  
“If you run away again, you're not only letting yourself down but you'll be letting your friends down too. And what do you think the governor will do the next time a long-term inmate comes up for a parole? The first thing he's going to think is; 'Look what happened with Heyes! He agreed to the conditions. He signed the contract and he had friends who also signed and agreed to stand by him. Then the first time things get rough he knifes everybody in the back—again! And disappears!' Kenny snorted sardonically. “You'd not only be destroying your own chances at a good life, but the chances of every other possible parolee coming up behind you.  
“I hope you're not the kind of man who would do that Heyes. I signed that contract in the belief that you're not the kind of man who would do that.”

Slowly but surely, Kenny's words were beginning to sink in and the memory of that night in Cheyenne when Wheat had been awarded his amnesty floated into Heyes' recollection unbidden. There it was; just another example of Heyes over-reacting and if it hadn't been for the Kid stopping him from shooting Morrison he would have ended up back behind bars—or at the end of a rope. 

A realization of his true situation was coming home to him. Mr. Ludlow was right, and Kenny was right! Was he never going to be able to adjust to a decent life? He was bound hand and foot by invisible shackles; he couldn't legally disappear with his wife and daughter and nor could he ask them to live a life on the run. Even if he did ask Abi to do that he already knew that she wouldn't. How could she? And how selfish of him to expect her to!

And now too; how selfish of him to betray his friends. He hadn't even thought of that! The only one he had been concerned about was Jed and he had agreed to help if that was what Heyes decided he really wanted. Although Jed's declaration at the wedding made it pretty obvious he wouldn't be helping willingly. And what about Lom and Steven, and Kenny himself? Even Sheriff Jacobs had been willing to put his job and his reputation on the line to help Heyes start a new life, and all Heyes had been thinking about was how to break away and leave them all stranded.

Anger at Kenny turned inward and he fought bitter tears; heartache and loneliness washing over him like a heaving ocean, taking him back to that Christmas Eve night not so many years ago. That cold dark night laying on his bunk in his cell wrapped up in every stitch of clothing, every bit of blanket he could find in a vain effort to get warm. He could still feel that crushing weight of despair and helplessness in the assumption that his cousin had forsaken him.

The darkness of that time settled over him like a black cloud and the warm sunny afternoon turned to ice on his skin. Kenny nudged his horse to step in closer to Karma and he took hold of Heyes' arm, feeling his heartbreak but also knowing that his words had finally sunk home.

 

“I've lost her,” Heyes muttered, barely more than a whisper but filled to the brim with so much hurt. “You have a wife who loves you and you have a fine family.” Heyes gasped, trying to keep his emotions in check. “I came so close to having it too. And now it's gone—you don't know what that feels like....”

“You're right, I don't,” Kenny told him and Heyes looked over at him, his eyes red and threatening to over-flow. “I can't imagine what it must have been like for you to lose your eldest daughter and now you're faced with losing your second one as well, even if is just temporarily. I know it must be very hard and I can understand you feeling angry and resentful about it. But as I said, you have a lot going for you here; a lot of people who will help you to start over.   
“When I was a young man I had everything handed to me on a platter. I worked hard, sure but I was born into wealth and status and respectability. I was engaged to a beautiful woman. The sun rose and set in her eyes and I saw no reason to ever doubt that I would spend the rest of my life with her.  
“Then the war came. I lost everything; our home gone, our properties destroyed, our wealth stolen. I lost both my parents. Here I was the one going off to war thinking I was protecting my loved ones, keeping them and our home safe but I'm the only one of our family to come out of it alive.  
“Even my beloved fiancee, who had sworn that she loved only me and that she would wait for me to return, even if it was until hell froze over.” Kenny gave a sardonic little laugh. “Two years seemed to be the extent of her patience and our devastated properties weighed the value of her love. I returned from war to find that she had married a senator's son, a young man who's father's influence had kept him and his inheritance out of the war.  
“I had nothing left. I drifted as though in a fog. I had never felt so....disconnected in my life. I had to re-invent myself but when you have no more passion left it's impossible to think ahead to what you want your future to be. So you drift. I made my way west, scraping out a living by running cattle or breaking horses and slowly the pain dissipated and I began to think clearly again. I began to feel alive again, and slowly but surely things got better.  
“You're miles ahead of where I was Heyes. You have so many good solid friends around you, who want to help you if you'd only let them. Of course you're going to miss your family and you're going to be feeling the pain of that loss for some time to come. But it will get better, and you will move on.” Kenny smiled and gave Heyes' arm a gentle shake. “And you can't tell me that you weren't enjoying the company of that very attractive young woman who was on your arm all day.”

Heyes couldn't help but grin then and his dimples danced through his hurt. “Yeah,” he agreed. “She is lovely, isn't she?”

“Uh huh. Is she that rich widow whom Jed told me about way back when?”

“Yeah,” Heyes nodded again.

“So you've known her for awhile now,” Kenny deducted. He sighed and became reflective. “So here we are. On one hand you're threatening to throw everything away and disappear in the wind. And on the other? Well, you opening and rather passionately declared to Mrs. Thornton that you're ready to move your relationship with her beyond just friendship.  
“You're at a crossroads here. Although I believe that you have already decided which path you're going to take, but the outlaw in you is still rebelling against anyone in authority trying to tell you what to do. I suppose that little bit of wildness is always going to be a part of your personality but as I said before; you're going to have to learn how to control it.”

Heyes smiled and nodded, his previous anger slipping away. “My folks used to say that they shouldn't have named me 'Hannibal' because I always seemed to be trying to live up to it.”

Kenny laughed. “Or maybe they saw that tenaciousness in you and named you accordingly.”

“I suppose.”

“It's time to let go of the past Heyes,” Kenny continued on a serious note again. “You need to look to your future. I quite like Mrs. Thornton, right from the moment I bumped into her. I think she makes a good match for you.”

“Do you?” Heyes asked quite honestly. “What happened yesterday wasn't planned—it just happened.”

“I don't believe that!” Kenny teased him. “You just think you didn't plan it! You allowed yourself to not think it to death and you simply followed your instincts. Sometimes when you feel unsure, that's the best way to handle it. Just remember how you felt about her before Mrs. Steward came back into your life. You'll find your way back there again.” He smiled wickedly. “Jed tells me that most of the fellas in town had bets going as to who would get married first; you or him.”

“Really?” Heyes asked, somewhat incredulously. “Kid never told me that.”

“No!” Kenny agreed adamantly. “He knows how competitive you are! He said he was afraid that if he told you that you'd probably go and do something stupid like marrying 'Isabelle' just to win the bet!”

“Ohh!” Heyes groaned. “I think he exaggerates!”

“Probably,” Kenny agreed. “She seems a pleasant enough young woman but not your type. Harry appears smitten with her though.”

“Harry would be smitten with a horse if she batted her eye lashes at him,” Heyes prophisized, conveniently forgetting about his own attachment to Karma. “Still, if she latches onto Harry hopefully she'll settle down and leave the rest of us alone!”

“No doubt,” Kenny agreed.

Heyes sighed and became reflective again, his anger having dissipated but still leaving him with a dull aching in his heart. “I know I do care for Randa—a lot!” He smiled ruefully. “Obviously more than I was allowing myself to believe. Afraid, I suppose. Afraid of opening up again, of loving again and have it all fall apart again. I suppose I did make a declaration there yesterday, didn't I? I just hope I can live up to it.” 

“You will,” Kenny assured him.“You're just still too wrapped up in all that other stuff to be able to see it for yourself. Give it time—you'll get through this, of that I have no doubt.”

“Yeah—time,” Heyes repeated reflectively. “Time heals all wounds.”

“So they tell me,” Kenny mused. “Nobody tells you about the scars though.”

Heyes smiled at his friend. “Yeah.”

“So...” Kenny felt it was time to move on. “Which one is Karma's colt?”

“Oh,” Heyes pulled himself out of his musings. “Ah....that one there,” he said, pointing to a group of two year olds. “The liver chestnut with the bit of white.”

“Oh yes.” Kenny gazed upon the grazing animal with open admiration. “He has your mare's stamp all over him. I can see why Jesse is so hopeful. Will he be standing at stud?”

“I donno,” Heyes shrugged. “I asked Beth the same thing but Jesse's not sure. He might make him available for his maiden season just to see what quality of foal he puts on the ground.” He sent a suspicious smile over to his friend. “Why? You thinkin'?”

Kenny shrugged. “I donno. I don't have any brood mares and don't really have time to start doing that. Still.....perhaps Jesse would be willing to sell me one of his get,” he smiled broadly. “at a reasonable price?”

Heyes laughed. “Well he just might do that for you Kenny! C'mon, we've got some time yet. If we give these horses a good stretch we can get over to JohnnyBoy's gang and see how many new foals we have!

“Sounds good!”

Heyes turned Karma's head and gave her a nudge. Always up for a good gallop, she flicked her tail and powered off, sending clumps of turf flying into Berry's face. Berry pulled up a little, but taking exception to the insult he dug in himself and the race was on!

 

The following day Heyes finished up his chores quickly and headed into town at a gallop. Karma was enjoying it and now that she was back into running shape again after having her two babies, she really knew how to turn on the speed. Heyes just barely had to touch her sides with his heels and she had dug in her hind feet and caused her human's eyes to water before the ranch house was out of sight.

These wondrous flights were an undeniable pleasure for the ex-con. It hadn't been that long ago that he thought he would never see his mare again, never gallop full speed across the open country—his own neck be damned, never feel the wind in his face like this again! He was feeling good!

The talk with Kenny the previous day, though painful at first had actually had the effect of lifting such a weight off his shoulders! Perhaps it had been mostly an obligation he had felt in his desire to go after Abi; that if he truly loved her then that's what he should do. And once again, yet again, always it seemed, Kenny was right. The mere thought of anybody official telling him what he could and could not do was all it took to cause him to over-react. To instantly feel that he had to do the exact opposite of what he was being told.

He'd given his word. He'd signed the documents and he'd been happy to do so. Anything to get out of that suffocating prison. But it sure hadn't taken him long to forget what it had been like in that place and it had taken a real sharp slap in the face reminder for him to realize how much he was taking his conditional freedom for granted. 

That had to stop. He had a real chance here; a real home. He had family, opportunity and support to get an exciting and challenging career going for himself and Jed, not to mention Wheat and Kyle too.  
Abi had said it already. They both needed to move on, to take advantage of those opportunities that came their way now and not keep pushing them aside in the hopes of a pipe dream coming true. He and Abi had given it their best shot and it still wasn't going to work. They both needed to move on and to give each other the freedom to do so.

Despite the exhilaration of the gallop Heyes felt a twinge of regret hit him as he came to not only realize but to truly accept this slice of reality. He missed his family so much but he knew that if he went after Abi all he would be accomplishing is to push her further away from him. She would go deeper into hiding, taking Anya with her and he might never see them again. He couldn't risk that so he'll let them go in the hopes of one day having the chance of really getting to know his daughter.  
He'd rather have Abi and Anya far away but still his friends than continue on with his stubborn pride and lose them altogether.

He smiled to himself then, as Karma galloped on. Thoughts of Miranda coming to mind. What was he going to do about that? He was so looking forward to seeing her today and was very much enjoying her company again. But what was she going to be expecting now, after his rather public display of affection? Would she be expecting a proposal, an engagement ring? Or at the very least, an indication of courting?

It's not that he didn't want to. All of a sudden now he wanted to have what Jed had. He wanted to have a family of his own; someone to build a life with, a future with. He hadn't realized how important that was to him until he'd had it oh so briefly with Abi and Anya, and then had it snatched away from him. Now he craved it like a man dying of thirst who'd only been allowed a few sips; just enough to wet his tongue and remind him of what was missing in his life.

But as much as he wanted it, he was afraid of it too. He admired Jed and Beth both, for going ahead with their wedding plans despite the danger that still lurked over-head. But maybe Heyes just had too vivid an imagination because he couldn't help but see the pitfalls that could lay ahead of them once he declared his intentions.

He thought at first that this was working out just fine. Set back and see if everything went smoothly for Jed and Beth and if the road remained safe then Heyes himself could set up and proceed with the courting. Two seconds after having that thought he hated himself for even thinking that way. Set his two friends up as bait and see what happens? What a cowardly thing to think! Is that what was happening? Was he becoming a coward as well as a killer? He certainly hoped not!

No, he thought as Karma started to slow down her gallop. He wasn't a coward, he was just doing what he always did; seeing a problem from all sides, looking ahead at all the possible things that could go wrong with a plan and then solving them. So that's what he had to do here; see the problems and the dangers ahead and take the necessary precautions against them.

The plan itself was still sound. They could still rob the bank, blow the safe, stop the train....date the lady but just be aware of the dangers around the corner. Be aware of them, side-step them and get the job done.

Then Heyes disgraced himself by almost having to make a grab for the saddle horn when Karma suddenly put on the brakes and made a sharp pivot to the right.

“Karma! What the....!?”

'I saw a snake! I know I did! You can't tell me I didn't!'

“Whoa Karma! C'mon! I thought we were past all this stuff! It's just a branch!”

'No it's not!”

“C'mon Karma! I thought having babies would smarten you up! It's just a....oh! No that is a snake!”

'Told ya'!'

“Yeah, yeah okay.” Heyes patted her arched neck and turned her to the side to take a wide circle around the hissing reptile. “Let's just go this way. That's what we get for galloping across country rather than sticking to the main road.”

Karma blew and pranced while Heyes tried to calm her down. He turned her head towards town again and asked her for a lope. She bucked in order to relieve some of the stress and then picking up the gait they circled around the bushes and made their way back onto the road and on into town.

 

Heyes dismounted in front of Miranda's bungalow and tied Karma to the hitching rail. He gave the mare a quick pat on the neck and then trotted up the steps and knocked on the front door.

“Come on in!” came the muffled response from inside.

Heyes nodded to himself and opening the door he entered the small alcove and made his way into the kitchen. Amy was sitting at the kitchen table surrounded by feathers and ribbons and lace and of course, hats. She smiled up at him from the midst of her colourful disarray, looking as pleased as a horse turned loose in a mercantile.

“Good morning Hannibal,” she greeted him as she wiped glue off her fingers. “You recovered from the big day?”

“I believe so,” Heyes grinned. He was having a hard time keeping a straight face at the sight of this little woman practically buried inside her creative endeavours. “How are you feeling today?”

“Wonderful!” Amy announced. “I will be forever thankful to Randa for pushing me into getting back to work. I love creating these hats for the ladies and the ladies all seem to love wearing them!”

“They're beautiful hats, Amy,” Heyes reminded her. “And even if you couldn't put in an appearance at the wedding, well your hats certainly made their presence known!” He couldn't help it then and he laughed. “I think just about every lady who was there was wearing one of your hats!”

“That's wonderful!” Amy smiled broadly, the happiness in her countenance shining through what was left of the injuries from her ordeal. “I'm so looking forward to getting back into my shop. There's so much to be done.”

“Just remember to take it easy at first,” Heyes cautioned her. “We don't want any relapses.”

“Yes, yes.” Amy rolled her eyes at all this hovering that people were doing. “I'll be careful.”

“Where's Miranda?” Heyes finally asked.

“She just went over to the livery to get her horse,” Amy informed him. “She decided that a picnic lunch would be the ticket for such a fine day as this.”

“Oh.” Heyes nodded and figuring that he might be here a while he pulled out a chair and sat down across the table from the milliner. “We did have a good day for the wedding. I'm sorry you didn't come.”

“I'm not,” Amy assured him. “It would have been too much for me and besides, it was great fun hearing all about it over lunch yesterday!” She twinkled a smile at him. “I understand you made quite a declaration! You don't do anything by halves do you Han?”

Heyes groaned. Was the whole town going to hear about this? Oh what was he thinking!? Practically the whole town was there to witness it!

“If it will make you feel any better, Miranda didn't say a word about it,” Amy assured him. “Tricia was the one who spilled the beans.” Big sigh. “She doesn't seem to be one who can keep a secret!”

Footsteps were heard on the porch followed by the hurried entrance by the mistress of the house. Heyes quickly stood up to greet the lady.

“Hannibal, I'm sorry.” Randa placed a hand on his arm but with a smile on her lips. “I hoped to be back here by the time you arrived.”

“Oh, no worries,” Heyes assured her, his heart once again doing a flip at the sight of her. “Amy and I were just talking.”

“Oh good!” Miranda was all a bluster, still trying to catch her breath. “I hope you don't mind; I thought that a picnic would be fun today.”

“That's fine,” Heyes assured her. “Anything is fine.”

Amy and Miranda shared a smile and Heyes felt as though he was getting himself in deeper with every word he said.

“Ahmm, were you able to get Percy again?” he asked, just for something to say.

“Oh yes!” Randa smiled with delight. “No question of that now, since I went over and bought him yesterday. So you see; we have to go for a ride today—my horse needs the exercise!” 

“Ohhh!” Heyes nodded playfully. “Is that why we're going on a picnic!”

“Of course!” Randa teased. “What other reason could there possibly be?”

Heyes grinned. “I can only think of one or two other reasons....”

Miranda smiled cheekily. “Let me get the lunch,” she said. “I put it in the pantry for when we were ready to go.”

An hour and a half later the couple arrived at what was quickly becoming their favourite picnic spot and Heyes got busy un-tacking the horses and putting them out on tethers to graze while Miranda got the lunch unpacked. It really was a beautiful day and considering that the weather was quite changeable this time of year it was wise to take advantage of the sun when it did put in an appearance.

Heyes was feeling more relaxed as is usually the case when he was out in the open and not crammed into a noisy cafe where conversations can be easily overheard. He and Randa could talk here and it was important that they both feel comfortable and free to speak openly about how they felt and what their expectations were. 

Neither one of them tended to beat around the bush and Heyes was tired of playing that coyish game with the ladies. Miranda was not a frivolous relationship, she was not one of his 'loves' for the night—or the hour. She was long-term. She was possibly the rest of his life. She deserved honesty.

They settled down under the tree where Miranda had spread the picnic blanket and began to partake of the sandwiches and iced tea that had been brought along with them.

“I suppose Jed and Beth are well on their way to San Francisco by now,” Miranda ventured. “That must be such a lovely train ride. Some of the scenery they'll be going through will be beautiful.”

Heyes snorted, almost choking on his sandwich.

“What!?” Miranda laughed but almost looked insulted that he would find what she said to be humorous.

“Oh, sorry.” Heyes got his breath back. “Just this assumption that they're going to be looking at the scenery.”

Miranda laughed again. “Well, there's not too much else they can do surrounded by other travellers.”

“I suppose,” Heyes relented. “Though you would be surprised at how resourceful Kid can be when it comes to getting what he wants.”

“I'm sure he'll be a little more discreet than that!” Randa surmised. “They have a whole fortnight ahead of them, with half of that in total seclusion! I'm sure Jed will wait until the time is right.”

Heyes suddenly became serious as a realization struck him. “How did you know that?” he asked her. “I thought Jed was keeping their destination a secret.”

“Oh.” Miranda suddenly looked like the cat who'd swallowed the Christmas pudding. “Oh dear. I did kind of let that slip, didn't I?”

“No one was suppose to know where they were going.” Heyes was worried. “They're going to be out in the middle of nowhere all on their own—anything could happen!”

“My but you're a worry wart,” Miranda accused him. “It's not as though the whole county knows. Beth just happened to come across the train tickets in the hotel room, along with the telegram from your friend in San Francisco offering them the cabin for a week. She happened to run into us having lunch yesterday and she was just so excited about where they were going that she had to share the news with us. No one else knows Hannibal. It'll be alright.”

Heyes sighed. “I donno,” he mumbled. “Even Amy knows that Tricia can't keep a secret...”

“She's not going to tell anyone. We all agreed,” Randa assured him and reached over to put a placating hand on his arm. “We're all very much aware of the dangers, Hannibal. Nobody's going to say anything.”

Heyes bit into his lower lip. “Hmm.”

“Speaking of which....” Miranda became serious herself. “I don't want you feeling as though you've trapped yourself into something. I'm aware of how emotions can run high at an event like that and I'm not going to hold you to anything.”

“Oh.” Heyes wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed. “I really shouldn't have done that. I don't know what I was thinking!”

Miranda's expression dropped and she lowered her eyes, disappointment hitting home. “Oh.”

“Oh damn!” Heyes was instantly contrite. “I didn't mean it that way! See? You're not the only one who can put their foot in their mouths!”

Miranda smiled and looked up to meet his gaze, but the hurt in her expression still lingered.

Heyes gave a deep sigh. “I've told you that I love you and I mean that,” he began. “It's just that...right now, it's not....”

“Good timing?” Miranda finished for him.

Heyes cringed. “No, not...well, yeah.” Somebody was feeling confused. “I guess I'm afraid for you. Look what happened to Amy just for being my friend?”

“We don't know if that's why it happened,” Miranda reminded him. “It could be any number of reasons.”

“Yeah, but the most obvious one is because of me,” Heyes commented. “She's quite right to want to keep her distance—just like Abi....”

Miranda shuffled in beside her man then, wanting to give him comfort. Lunch was forgotten about for the time being. “Hannibal, both Abi and Amy have suffered hurts that don't just go away. Both of them reacted to those past injuries and felt the need to have to protect themselves from being hurt like that again.  
“Amy and I have talked a lot about how she feels. This incident with the shelving just brought back such a flood of painful memories for her that her first instinct was to throw up the barriers! That reaction had more to do with her history than it did to anything concerning you.   
“I wouldn't be surprised if that's exactly what Abi was having to deal with as well. I've never had a child, but the hurt caused by the loss of one must be devastating....” Heyes hung his head and nodded. “....I'm sorry,” Randa continued. “I know you lost a daughter too. In a way you've lost two daughters, but at least you know that the one is alive and safe. That must mean something.”

Heyes nodded again. “Yes. It means a lot. It means—everything. Knowing that Anya is safe.” 

“It's just bad timing, like you say,” Randa pointed out. “That you should care for two different women at the same time and both are so wounded that neither is willing to take a chance on being hurt again.”

“Yes. I know.” Heyes smiled and hugged Randa closer to him. “But not you? Are you not afraid of what could happen if we begin to court?”

“Well...” Randa contemplated that. “I've never been hurt like that, so I suppose I'm not as afraid to take the chance. Much like Beth. Beth has never had her heart broken so to her there is nothing worse than being without Jed. I hope she never discovers that pain. But we all must carry on, no matter what. We all just do the best we can.”

“But you've been hurt before too,” Heyes pointed out. “You said yourself that you were devastated when your husband died.”

“Yes,” Miranda admitted to that. “But I wasn't angry or bitter. Well, actually I was for a while, but not at William. I was angry at life itself, for taking my husband away from me. I know he didn't want to go. I know he loved me. So losing William was a whole different kind of hurt than what Amy experienced. And what Abi experienced. I'm not carrying around those scars. I'm ready to take a chance on love again—to take a chance on you.”

Heyes smiled. “Thank you,” he told her, and meant it. “But I'm not ready to put you at risk. Not yet. Not until we have a better idea of what is going on.”

“I know,” she assured him. “In a way, it's flattering that you care about me that much, that you feel the need to protect me. I know that you love me. You have told me that you do and you have shown me that you do. In the mean time, as far as the rest of the world in concerned, we can just pretend.”

Heyes smiled over at her. “Pretend that we don't love each other?”

“Yes.”

“It'll be the biggest con I ever pulled.” 

 

“Hey Silky!” Jed greeted his long-time mentor. “It's good to see ya'! How are ya' doin'?”

“I'd be doing a whole sight better if you'd take that gun off!” the elderly gentleman retorted. “You know I don't like guns in the house—take it off!”

“Yeah, yeah a'course, Silky. Sorry.” Kid was quick to appease the cranky old man. “I forgot, that's all.”

“Yeah, well don't be forgettin' again!”

Jed quickly unstrapped his gunbelt and handed it to one of the innumerable servants who were always hovering around the vicinity. He felt Beth take a tentative step back, suddenly feeling a little afraid of this intimidating man who had invited them into his home. Jed smiled and taking her by the elbow, helped to steady her trepidations.

“Ah, Silky; I'd like ya' to meet my wife, Beth.”

Silky's expression instantly softened and with a genuinely warm smile on his face he stepped forward to kiss her hand.

“Well I never thought I'd see the day that one of my boys would actually shackle themselves to a lady!”

“Oh. I....”

“No, no young lady...don't you go payin' me no mind,” Silky assured her. “I'm mighty pleased to meet you. You certainly are a pretty little thing.” Silky's expression turned hard again as he sent his attention back to the Kid. “What are ya' doin' just standin' there like a lump on a log? It's hot out here! You're wife would probably appreciate a nice cool drink!”

Jed started to laugh. “Yeah, yeah. C'mon darlin', he won't bite.”

Half an hour later Silky and his guests were in the parlour enjoying some nice cool drinks as they awaited the lunch that was being prepared for them. Beth stood in absolute awe of her surroundings. She had never been in a home that was so elaborate and elegant. She'd heard of hotels that were this opulent but she had never, in her wildest dreams ever imagined someone's home would come up to that standard.

She had finished her drink and was looking for an appropriate place for the glass when suddenly a servant was there with a tray. He accepted the empty glass and without a word supplied the surprised young woman with a replenished one. He then discreetly disappeared into the woodwork.

“How's Heyes doing?” Silky was asking when Beth was able to bring her focus back to the conversation.

“He's fine, considering,” Jed answered.

“What the hell is that suppose to mean?” came the crotchety response.

“He went through a lot, even more than you know about,” Kid explained. “It's been a tough adjustment. But he's gettin' there. Ain't he darlin'?”

“What?” Beth was taken by surprise. “Oh! Yes. Joshua is such a dear.”

Silky's eyebrows went up. “A dear!?” He looked back at the Kid. “You sure she knows who we're talking about?”

Jed grinned and nodded. “Yeah, she knows. He's a changed man Silky. He wants to settle down now, have a family. Have a good life.”

“Good life!” Silky snorted. “I taught him a good life! Then he had to go run off and become a common bank robber! I blame you for that, ya' know!”

Kid pointed his index fingers at his own chest and raised his eyebrows innocently. “Me?”

“Yeah—you!” Silky reiterated. “Heyes was on his way to becoming the best grifter we ever had in the circle! We all had real high hopes for him. Then you had to go run off! Heyes lost his focus after that!”

“Oh now Silky, you can't....”

“Yeah, yeah....” Then Silky noticed that Beth was looking a little uncomfortable with this old familiar squabble between the two friends and decided to soften his approach. “Well, tell me young lady, just how did you get Kid Curry to settle down and marry you?”

“Oh Well, it's rather a long story, so.....”

“Lunch is served, sir,” came the welcomed interruption from the doorway.

“Oh well fine!” said Silky as he stepped forward and offered Beth his arm. “You can tell me all about your romance over a chilled pheasant salad.”

Beth accepted the offered arm but sent a quick shy smile back to her husband. Jed grinned at the old flim-flam man stepping in and taking control. He stepped in behind them and followed along to the day time dinning area. 

An hour later, the two men were enjoying an after lunch sherry while Beth announced a preference for tea—orange pekoe if they had any. Much to her surprise and delight a small personal tea pot was set on the table beside her along with a very delicate tea cup and saucer. She could tell by the aroma that it was indeed orange pekoe and was about to pour herself a cup when the servant beat her to it and then caused her a moment of confusion when he asked her if she preferred milk or lemon in her tea.

“That's real nice of ya' to offer us your cabin for the week,” Jed was saying. “Things have been so crazy back home that a week in the mountains sounds just right.”

“I had to get ya' out from underfoot somehow!” Silky complained. “Next thing I know Heyes'll be wantin' to come here with his new Mrs.!”

“Yeah, he just might.”

“I got your tickets for the dinner theatre tomorrow night,” Silky continued. “Real nice table too. Should be a good show. Ah, you both got appropriate apparel?”

“Yeah, we do,” Jed assured him. “We're good.”

“Well fine.” Then Silky caused both his guests to jump when his strident tones went up a few notches. “Harold!”

Harold instantly put in an appearance. “Yessir.” 

“Go get that....you know....” and he gave a dismissive wave of his hand. Harold gave a slight bow and disappeared.

Jed smiled suspiciously. “What are you up to?”

“Nothin'!” Silky snapped. “Can't a man give a pretty young bride her own weddin' present?”

“Aw jeeze, Silky. You've already given us so much.”

Silky snarled and waved away the protest. He stood up as Harold re-appeared carrying a small oblong box which Silky promptly took from him and set on the table beside Beth. Beth just sat and looked at it, not quite sure what to do.

“Well, open it!” Silky commanded her.

“Oh! Yes.” Beth smiled over at Jed, then gently opened the box. The gasp she sent forth was one of pure delight.

Jed took a look and an appreciative grin spread across his face.

“It's beautiful,” Beth whispered. “Are those real diamonds?”

“Of course they're real diamonds!” Silky sounded insulted. “And those pale blue stones are aqua-marine. Not easy to come by, those. Here, let me put it on.”

The old gentleman picked up the necklace and draped it around Beth's throat. She pulled her long hair out of the way and smiled with pleasure as her hands reached up to caress the precious stones. Silky clasped it at the back and then sat down in his own chair again.

“It's beautiful,” she said again, her smile taking over her face. “Thank you so much.”

“Silky, ya' shouldn't have....”

“Ah, don't you go tellin' me what I shouldn't a' done!” Silky cut him off. “I havta spend my money on something and I'd rather spend it on a pretty young lady than have it go that no good nephew of mine!”

Jed laughed. “Ya' alright. Thanks Silky.”

Silky's expression softened again. “You young people should have a real fine time at the theatre tomorrow.

 

Later that evening Beth stood in front of the full length mirror that was in the plush guest room that their host had set aside for them. She was stark naked, staring at herself—or, more appropriately, staring at the necklace which still adored her delicate throat. Her right hand came up to caress it again, hardly daring to believe that she had been given such a fine gift.

Jed came up to stand behind her, his hands also coming up to caress but they stopped at something a bit more opulent than the necklace. Beth sighed deeply and leaned back into him.

“What a strange man,” she said as she closed her eyes in bliss. “He took you and Hannibal in when you were teenagers and gave you a home?”

“Hmm. One of them,” Jed mumbled as he started to kiss the back of her neck. “Diamond Jim was another—you know about him.” Beth nodded. “And then there's also Soapy Saunders. You don't know him.” Beth shook her head and took in a deep shuttering breath as Jed began to play with her nipples. “They all knew one another and each had their own special abilities and cons that they became known for.” Jed's right hand moved down, caressing her tummy and then ran his long slender fingers through her bush. Both breathed heavier as his left hand continued to tease her nipple and his right made the assault and dug deep into her center. She groaned and opened for him, trying to give him easier access. “So...” Jed continued between kisses. “we spent time....living with each one...of them so they could teach....us their own special con.....That way, me and Heyes.....got a real well rounded....education.”

“That certainly makes sense.” Beth moaned as she squirmed in his embrace.

Jed retreated from her warmth and grabbing hold of a plush chair, he pulled it over in front of Beth. He gently pushed her shoulders forward so that she bent at the waist and used the arms of the chair to support herself. Jed quickly unbuttoned his trousers and coming at her from behind, slowly pushed his way into her. Both groaned with the overwhelming pleasure.

“But you....ran...away...?”

“Yeah.....”

“Oh....”

Conversation was soon abandoned as erotic pleasure took over. Beth continued to be amazed as her eyes were drawn to their reflection in the full-length mirror, her necklace, among other things, bouncing back and forth in rhythm with Jed's thrusting. 'Mama never told me about this one either!'

 

The week up in the cabin could not have been filled with more bliss. The cabin was just as basic and rustic as Silky's home had been exquisite and elegant and they loved every minute of it. The days were warm and sunny with birdsong greeting them every morning and the yapping of coyotes settled them in every night. 

It became a ritual to open the door in the crisp morning air to find deer grazing in the fields surrounding the cabin and since Beth wouldn't let Jed shoot any of them, they soon relaxed in the presence of the humans and would graze well into the morning. The couple ate a lot of rabbit stew along with the stores that they had hauled in there on the mule they rented along with the riding horses for the duration.

Both Jed and Beth relaxed in their little hide away. The stresses and anxieties back home were all left behind and they glowed in the pleasure of just being in one another's company and not having any demands placed upon then other than to eat and sleep and make love.

On the evening before their last day Beth sat out on the front step, watching the summer day gradually roll into evening dusk and she sighed just a little regretfully. Jed came up behind and sat down beside.

“What's the matter, darlin'?” he asked her as he put an arm around her shoulders.

She smiled and leaned into him. “Oh nothing,” she assured him. “This has just been so wonderful, I'll be sorry to leave here tomorrow. I almost feel guilty because I don't miss anyone back home, I could just stay and live here forever!”

“You say that now,” Jed told her. “Just wait until winter sets in. This might be California, but way up here the winters can get pretty hard.”

“Oh I know,” she assured him. “It's just a fantasy.”

“I know what you mean though,” Jed commented. “This has been real nice. We'll have to try and get back up here again sometime.”

“Do you think Mr. O'Sullivan would let us use the cabin again?” she asked hopefully.

“Sure,” Jed told her. “It's not like he gets up here anymore. Ha, if he ever did! I think he just had it here in case he had to make a run for it one day.”

Beth smiled. “Is he always so cranky?” she asked. “I still feel a little afraid of him.”

“No, you don't need to be afraid of Silky,” Jed assured her. “That's just his way. Takin' in stray boys, I suppose he had to scare the bejezus of 'em to get 'em to behave.” He grinned. “Goodness knows me and Heyes ran him ragged more'n once.”

“Hmm,” Beth smiled. “You and Hannibal have some very interesting friends.”

“Yup!” Jed agreed with a grin. “And you ain't even met 'em all yet!”

Beth sighed again and leaned even deeper against her husband. “What are we going to do when we get back?” she asked him. “Are you going to continue working for Papa?”

“Well, maybe for a while,” Jed admitted. “but not forever. I like Heyes' idea of opening up a detective agency. I think we'd be real good at that. I'll probably continue to work for your father until we can get that up and running but I hope that eventually it'll be a living. I don't mind ranching, but if Heyes wants to become a detective—hey, I'm all for it!”

“Yes, me too. It'll be fun!”

“Really?” Jed queried. “And you think you're going to be running around solving cases like Abi did? Even she stopped doing that when her children came along.”

“No,” Beth assured her husband. “My one undercover stint at the prison was enough for me. But I can help in other ways. I can still help Papa with the ranch's finances and do the same for you and Hannibal.” She smiled. “Until I get too busy raising your children!”

Jed laughed and hugged her close. “Our children, darlin'.!” Then his smile dropped and he gazed out upon the meadow that was slowly fading into the gloaming. A lone coyote wailed its evening cry across the wilderness. He was so happy, he'd never felt so content in his whole life. A subtle smile returned to his lips and he kissed his wife upon her forehead. “Our children.”

 

To Be Continued.


	19. The Quickening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy is on the mend  
> Jed and Beth receive good news.  
> Brookswood get hit with an epidemic.

The Quickening.

“Beth!” Amy looked up from her work and smiled, the livid scar on her lip reaching down to her chin “And you’re wearing your electric-blue hat. You look stunning in it. I bet you were such a beautiful bride. I am sorry I couldn’t make it to your wedding.” 

“Thank you. You could have come, Amy. You‘d been made very welcome.”

Amy shook her head. “Randa said, but no, I couldn’t have made the journey out there. All that bumping around in a wagon, you know. I was thinking of you though.” She arched an eyebrow. “How’s married life? Did you have a good honeymoon?”

Heyes grinned mischievously. “They were both as pale as ghosts when they got back, so I guess they must have. I doubt they saw the light of day for the whole week.”

Beth blushed puce. “Oh, Hannibal!”

“Where did you go?” giggled Amy.

“A friend lent us a hunting lodge for the week.” Beth’s eyes turned wistful. “It was so beautiful, just Jed, me and the wilderness. The mountains were magnificent! I’ll remember that week until my dying day.”

“Yeah,” Heyes’ dimples deepened. “It was all about the mountains. Gotta have them on a honeymoon.”

“Stop teasing her, Hannibal.” Amy gave a tinkling laugh. “Where is your husband?”

“My husband? I suppose I’ll get used to that, but it does sound so odd!” Beth tried to suppress her smile but failed miserably. “He’s gone over to the lumberyard. We have to start building our house. Hannibal thought he’d come and see Randa while we were waiting.” 

“Oh, yes. I don’t suppose you want to keep living with your parents.” Amy wheeled herself over to the sink, but Heyes took the tea kettle from her hand, refusing to let her struggle to a standing position to fill it. “Miranda’s gone to the store. She should be back any time now.” 

“Papa’s given us a parcel of land. He and Jed think it’s a perfect place for a house, and we’re still close enough to help out on the ranch.” Beth took the kettle from Heyes’ hand and placed it on the range. “A place of our own! I can’t wait.” 

“Your first house is very special,” Amy agreed. “Speaking of your own place, David has said I can go home.”

Beth frowned at Heyes. “But you’re still in the wheelchair. How will you manage?”

“I’m building up my strength. I’ve been walking with crutches a few hours a day. He’s happy that I can manage at night on my own and I must try to get the shop open. The bank has been very understanding – more than I could ever imagined really, but I’m sure I can make payments if I just open in the afternoon to start with. It has been ten weeks now so I can start to do normal things a little at a time.”

Heyes frowned. “Alone at night? I don’t like it.”

“Mr. Cramond has fastened the shelving unit so soundly the building will fall down before it moves again. Sheriff Jacobs has been so kind, he’s overseen the work himself and made sure he reassured me. I think he even swung on it. I did want Mr. Cramond to do the work because I felt sorry for him. This wasn’t his fault, but it was affecting his orders. I wanted to publicly show that I had confidence in him.”

“But still, alone at night...?” Heyes murmured, pensively.

Amy tilted her head. “I’m a widow, Hannibal. That’s the only respectable condition for me.” 

Heyes scratched his chin. “I’m not happy about that.”

“How sad,” Amy giggled. “I’m delighted about it. I will miss Randa, but it’s such a positive step forward and she’s promised to come and see me regularly.”

“But working so soon, Amy? I’m not sure that’s wise.”

Amy hooked Heyes with a determined stare. “It’s a hat shop, not a lumber yard. As long as I use my wheelchair I’m sure I can lug those great, heavy hats around the store.” 

“I’ll come whenever I’m in town,” Beth added. “So will Mama, I’m sure.”

“Thank you, but don’t forget if it’s open, ladies will come in, so I won’t be lonely and Mr. Cramond is sending his apprentice twice a day to make sure I have water, the range cleaned out, logs brought in – that kind of thing. I’ll be just fine.” A thought seemed to occur to Amy. “Oh, I’ve had some new tea delivered. Orange Pekoe. Would you like to try it?”

“I had some on our honeymoon,” Beth informed her. “You mentioned it being a lovely tea so I thought I would try it. I couldn't taste any orange in it though.”

“Oh, no it doesn’t taste of Oranges. It’s a black tea from the East Indies. They call it orange after the Dutch Royal House of Orange. It’s very refreshing for a mid-afternoon drink.”

“You do love your tea, don’t you, Amy,” chuckled Heyes.

“Yes, I love thinking about the countries it comes from too. I have some books on it, and they’re so exotic. You can borrow them if you’d like.”

“Books?” Heyes eyebrows arched. “Yeah, I’d like to read them.”

“They’re at the shop. I’ll do you a deal, help me move back and you can borrow them.”

Heyes nodded. “Sure, when are you moving?” 

“Sunday, if that’s convenient?”

“Sunday? I’ll be there - sounds like Randa’s back,” Heyes looked up at the sound of the front door opening followed by chattering voices, “as well as your husband, Mrs. Curry.”

Beth’s warm brown eyes glistened at her friend. “Mrs. Curry. It just doesn’t seem real yet.”

“No?” Heyes chuckled. “You wait until the young‘uns come along. It’ll feel pretty real then.”

Beth dropped her head. “Yes, I guess it will.” 

 

Jed smiled proudly down at his new wife, stretching out a hand to help her onto the wagon. “What did he say?” he whispered.

“It’s too early to tell,” Beth glanced at Heyes who was loading lumber into the flat-bed at the back. “I could have asked Mama, but she’d guess and I want this to be a surprise.”

“When?”

“David said to come back in a couple of weeks, but it might even be too early then.”

Beth took a seat while the Kid’s long fingers tapped impatiently against the wood. “Isn’t there anything they can do?”

She laid a gentle hand on his forearm. “Just be patient. It might be nothing, but I’m sure something will happen soon, one way or another,” a smile twitched at her lips, “if you have anything to do with it.”

“Will you two pack it in?” They turned to laugh at Heyes’ indignant face. “This stuff’s heavy! How about a bit of help?”

“Of course it is,” the Kid strode around to the back to join his partner. “Now you know how I felt all those years. You’d leave me to do all the heftin’ while you’d swan around makin’ big plans.”

Heyes narrowed his eyes, glinting at each of them in turn. “Yeah, but they were never quite as big as yours. Maybe if I’d thought straighter and planned better, huh?”

Beth picked up on the undertones. “Sorry, here we are being all indulgent and you’re missing Abi.”

Heyes froze. “I’m fine.”

Beth shook her head. “You’re not. It’s alright to miss her. Who knows, maybe she’ll decide she was being over cautious and come back.”

There was the crack of a plank dropping flat against another. “She won’t. We discussed it.”

“But still,” Beth persisted, “she looked out for you for all those years, even when you were on bad terms. I can’t believe she’d just drop you like that. Not now.”

“Just leave it, darlin’” Jed murmured, watching Heyes stride off to the lumber yard. “He ain’t good at talkin’ when he’s like this. He’ll come around in his own time.” 

Beth sighed. “I’m worried, Jed. Seeing us so happy is like rubbing his nose in everything he’s lost.”

Jed’s blue eyes followed his cousin as he walked away. “He loves you, Beth, and he doesn’t want to squash our moment. Just be yourself and we’ll all be there to support him. It’s all we can do.”

 

“Where do you want this,” Heyes demanded, looking around the hat shop.

Miranda laughed and dropped a box on the counter whilst Amy wiggled in his arms. “Put me down!”

“Nuh uh,” Heyes grinned. “I need to find the right spot first. What about a high shelf?” The smile fell from his face. “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean that.”

“I know,” Amy threw back her head and laughed but her eyes grew more serious and drifted up the guilty unit. She gulped heavily. “It’s big, isn’t it?”

“Yup. Are you alright, Amy? You can just visit until you get used to being here?” Heyes fixed her with a serious stare. “Anyone would find this daunting. I’m quite happy to take you back to Randa’s and let you get used to this a little at a time.”

Amy paused, her little, white teeth biting nervously into her lip. “No. I’ll stay and face this. I have to be brave.”

The dark eyes softened. “Well, you’ll have no problems if that’s all it takes. I haven’t met many as brave as you.”

Amy blushed. “I’m not. There’s just no point in wallowing – I found that out a long time ago. You have to take action if you want to move on with your life.”

Heyes arched a brow. “You have a way of cutting to the quick,” he darted a look at Miranda, “and of being dead right.”

They turned to watch David clatter into the shop with the wheelchair, followed by Tricia carrying bales of fresh bedding in her arms. “Your chariot awaits,” David announced, placing it conveniently in front of Heyes. “Let’s see how easy it is for you to manoeuvre in these small spaces.” 

The group watched her steer her way around the counter, in and out of the little kitchen and around the bed. David nodded pensively. “Yes, I think you can manage. I’ll be around first thing in the morning though, just in case. Do you have a spare key?”

“Somewhere in the drawer here,” Amy started rooting around through the nick-nacks and paraphernalia which had been thrust away in case they might be useful some day. “I’m sure it was in here.”

“I can get you in if you’re stuck, David,” Heyes suggested, archly.

“You’ll be tucked up at the Double J., Hannibal. You’ll be miles away.”

“I could stay over?” Heyes glanced at Miranda, “at the hotel, of course.” 

“Here it is,” Amy announced, brightly, holding up the spare key.

Miranda tilted her chin at Heyes in challenge. “See? There’s no need for you to stay now. At least that’s a weight off your mind.”

“Yeah,” Heyes muttered. “Great.”

Tricia smiled, glancing between Heyes and her cousin. “Come on, Randa. Help me get Amy’s bed made.”

“Why don’t I put the kettle on?” Amy suggested. “It’s about time I found my way around my own kitchen again.”

David and Heyes watched Amy wheel herself into the back room and looked over to the door in an unspoken agreement. It was time to get the last of Amy’s things back into the shop for her. They strolled over to the wagon and lifted the last two boxes. 

“So, how are things going between you and Randa?” asked David.

Heyes headed back to the shop. “Yeah, they’re good.”

David sighed. “Hannibal, I have to ask you something but I don’t want it to sound as though I’m acting like some kind of stern father.”

Heyes turned. “What, David?”

“I can see the pair of you getting close again, but it wasn’t too long ago that you were engaged to another woman. I’m trying to find a way to ask you what your intentions are, but it sounds too formal.”

“We’re friends, David.”

“A little more than friends - I’ve seen you together. I was at the wedding.”

“I’m not going to hurt her, David. I’ve been completely honest with her.”

The doctor frowned. “What if she comes back, Hannibal? Mrs. Stewart has a way of popping up when she’s least expected.” 

Heyes dropped his head but quickly regained control. “Yeah, but that’s not going to happen this time. We agreed. We had a long talk, David, and neither of us could take coming together and breaking up anymore. We gave it our best shot. We’ve been doing that for too many years and it meant both of us putting our lives on hold for far too long. It’s over, for everyone’s sake. It’s time to draw a line in the sand and walk away. People can love more than once – they just have to do some healing first. Abi really believes there’s still a threat, so she won’t bring Anya into this. It’s finished.”

“Is that an excuse? Maybe you’ve outgrown one another; after all, both your lives have changed beyond all recognition since you first met.”

Heyes sighed, “I guess that was my excuse for not looking for her. I should have made the effort to commit to her once she had Anya, but I just didn’t try. I could have found her if I’d wanted to - and got her to listen to me - but I didn’t - I was too wrapped up in myself and how I felt, while she was doing the best she could for our daughter. If we’d gone away and disappeared the authorities would probably never have caught up with us. I damn myself for that, especially now I know she never stopped caring. We could have had a fairly normal life.” He paused, staring off down the street. “She’s rarely wrong. If she believes there’s a threat, there probably is one–and if that’s the case, I can’t risk Anya either. I don’t see a way forward as long as I’m on parole. But how can I put another woman or child at risk by starting over?” 

“So, back to you and Randa.”

“She’s a wonderful, clever, caring woman. Of course I’m attracted to her, but what if she’s in danger by being connected to me? Look what happened to Amy. Miranda and I are friends, David, but much as I love her, my head’s just not in the right place to get more serious right now. I’m getting over Abi and I fear for the people around me.”

David narrowed his eyes. “You’re not planning on doing anything stupid, are you, Hannibal?”

“Stupid?”

“Like breaking your parole and disappearing, for instance?”

Heyes cheeks pitted with joyless dimples. “As if I would do a thing like that?”

David arched a cynical eyebrow. “Yeah, as if.”

The men stood in the street, still bearing their boxes, looking deeply into one another’s eyes. David eventually broke the silence. “We don’t know what happened to Amy. All I ask is that you don’t do anything without speaking to me first. I give you my word I’ll keep it confidential and I won’t interfere, but maybe I can help you to rationalize things before you do anything irrevocable.”

Heyes remained silent.

“Promise me Hannibal. This threat could be a bluff to make you drive yourself back into prison. You won’t go far wrong keeping friends around you.”

“It wasn’t a bluff. Abi listened in using a spying device. They didn’t know anyone could hear them.”

“That’s as maybe, but don’t let this campaign strip everything away from your life. It’s taken enough.” David smiled softly. “I’m glad you’re taking things slowly with Miranda, for both your sakes. It does sound like you’ve called it quits with Mrs. Stewart. I’m sorry. I know she meant a lot to you.”

“We’re made of the same stuff, David, so neither of us could resist trying to best the other. She’s what I could have been, and I’m her dark side. It was a glimpse of what could have been for both of us,” Heyes shrugged, his eyes distant, “a glorious, wonderful mirage. Maybe I wasn’t all bad if somebody like her could care for me?”

“You’ve never been all bad, Hannibal.” David paused, “and a lot of people care for you – and you’re right. People can love again.”

Heyes nodded. “Yeah, but how do you cope if that hurts them?”

“Not by running away. All you can do is give them the information and let them chose their own path through life. I guess Mrs. Stewart thought your daughter wasn’t able to decide that for herself, so did it for her. ”

“What are you two talking about out there?” They turned. Tricia was in the doorway of the shop, her hands on her hips. “We’ll never get those things unpacked if you don’t get them in here.”

“Coming!” David and Heyes yelled in unison.

“Tea’s ready,” trilled Amy as they placed the boxes beside the newly-made bed. “Serving tea from my own kitchen again.” She blinked back tears, her chest heaving with emotion. “Thank you, David. My sincere thanks to all of you. I don’t know how I’d have gotten through this without you.”

Miranda stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. “You owe us nothing, Amy, except maybe a cup of tea?”

Amy gulped back a caustic ball of angst. “Yes, tea.” She turned her wheelchair, heading back to the kitchen. “Oh, and Hannibal? The books I promised you are in the box beside my bed. Can you help yourself to them? I’ll forget otherwise.”

 

Mrs. Bamforth stood in the doorway, blinking in surprise behind her thick, concave lenses. “You’re open?”

Amy glanced up from the rainbow of ribbons with a smile of welcome. “At last, this is my first day. Please come in.”

The matron hesitated on the doorstep. “I was only curious. I heard about your accident. Well done on getting back to work. I do hope you are much recovered?”

“Please come in,” Amy wheeled herself over to the door. “There’s no obligation to buy, this is a very social place. Maybe you can help Miss Timpson decide on the colours for her hat for the 4th July celebrations. At the moment she is stuck between the lemon and white, which looks so fresh on her, and the pale blue. What do you think?”

Mrs. Bamforth stared over at Eliza Timpson whose rag-curled ringlets tumbled over her shoulders. “The blue. They go with her lovely eyes, although the lemon and white compliments her complexion.” Mrs. Bamforth titled her head weighing up the question. “The blue. Mix that with white and you have it all. You would look so sweet in white with touches of pale blue.”

Angela Timpson lifted the straw hat and held it out to Amy. “She’s right. Can we try blue and white instead of the lemon and white?” She glanced down at her daughter. “What do you think?”

“It would be unique wouldn’t it?” demanded Eliza. “I don’t want to bump into anyone else wearing the same hat.”

“I can promise you that I would not make the same hat twice,” Amy replied. “That’s why people come to me. What about white daisies with blue ribbon?” She pulled open a drawer and brought out some fabric flowers. Like this,” she placed a bunch on the brim, “and because it’s the height of fashion this season, I would suggest placing some under the curled brim here.” Amy pinned the trimmings in place and set the prototype on Eliza’s head. “Oh, yes. You have a very good eye, Mrs...?”

“Bamforth. Mrs. Bamforth.”

“Oh, Mama!” Eliza squealed. “I look like a fashion plate. It’s wonderful.”

“Please come in, Mrs. Bamforth.” Angela Timpson pleaded. “I would love your opinion on mine.”

The older lady hesitated but ventured further in. “What colour were you thinking?”

“I was thinking peach?”

“Really?” Mrs. Bamforth pursed her lips. You have such lovely eyes, you should compliment them. Have you thought of the new electric-blue? That mixed with white would be very dramatic on you.”

Angela Timpson paused. “I don’t know. Don’t you think I’m a bit old to be wearing the newest fashions? I prefer something a bit more classical.”

“Old?” Mrs. Bamforth snorted. “You’re not old; you’re probably not even forty yet.” 

“Well, it’s all relative isn’t it?” Angela giggled. “Compared to Eliza I’m positively ancient.”

Mrs. Bamforth shook her head. “Do you know that the French say women don’t age - they accrue sensuality? They know so much about womanhood that a mere girl cannot compete.”

Amy’s blue eyes widened. “Really? I love that! She’s so right, Mrs Timpson. You can wear the classic lines but update the trimmings. I’m going to put the kettle on and we’ll take you through some electric-blue touches to that wide-brimmed hat you liked. How does that sound? Tea, everyone?”

“Sounds lovely,” Angela nodded. “This shop is such a treat for us ladies.” 

“Mrs. Bamforth? How about you? Would you like some tea?”

The older woman shook her head. “A drink? Thank you, but no. I really must be going. It’s been lovely meeting you all.”

“It certainly has.” Amy headed to the back of the shop. “You must come again, Mrs. Bamforth.”

“You can be sure of it, Mrs. Oliphant.” Mrs. Bamforth headed for the door. “I do hope you continue on your road to recovery. I will come back when I have more time. This really is such a charming, little shop. I’ll bring my ginger cookies when I come next.” 

 

David turned the key in the lock, his brow furrowing. “Amy? Are you alright?” He pushed the door to the shop open, the bell tinkling cheerfully above his head at odds with the greyed-out, sombre light filtering through the drawn blinds. “Amy? You didn’t open the shop. I was worried because you’ve opened every day for the last two weeks. You’ve been doing so well.”

“David?” the weak moan came from the living quarters at the back. 

“Amy,” the doctor quickened his step, pulling back the curtain dividing the bedroom from the kitchen. The slight form lying under the bed-covers shifted and shuffled to a half-sitting position. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve been sick, David. I’ve been up all night.”

David strode over to the window and dragged back the thin curtains to throw some light around the room, casting a caustic sunbeam across her reddened, blinking eyes. “You look pale.” He dropped a well-practised hand on her forehead. “You’re a bit warm. You’ve been vomiting? Any other symptoms?”

“Stomach cramps. Really bad, and I ache all over. What is it?”

“Have you eaten or drunk anything unusual?” 

She shook her head. “Nothing. My dinner was a stew I made, I shared it with George who has been coming around to cut logs and clean the range. Has he been ill?”

David shook his head. “It hasn’t been reported to me. I have had a couple of other women reporting similar symptoms. Mrs. Krugsfeld and Mrs. Mason.”

Amy dropped back on the pillow. “They were in the shop yesterday, along with Mrs. Cooper and Mrs. Bamforth.”

“Did you eat anything they did?”

“Some of Mrs. Bamforth’s ginger cookies. We had them with some tea.” 

“Ginger cookies?” A worm turned at the back of David’s mind. Hadn’t somebody else been violently ill after eating some ginger cookies? “When were you last sick?”

“At about four o’clock this morning.”

“And nothing since?”

Amy shook her head. “I’ve been trying to sleep. The cramps have gone, but I just feel so weak.”

David glanced at the glass of water on her nightstand. “When did you last drink anything?

“Not for hours.”

“It sounds like the worst is passed. You’ve ejected whatever was upsetting your system. Do you think you could drink some tea?”

Amy’s bleary eyes brightened. “Tea?”

David nodded. “Let me examine you, then I’ll make some for you. I’ll give the key to Randa so she can come over to give you some company. Lie down and lift your nightdress for me.”

 

Valentine Bamforth lifted his brows in curiosity as his face appeared around the door of his hotel room. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, is your mother in?” asked David.

Valentine nodded. “She’s resting.”

David placed a hand on the flat of the door to prevent it from closing. “May I see her?”

Valentine shook his head. “No. She’s asleep.”

“I’m Doctor Gibson. A few of the ladies who ate some cookies at the hat shop yesterday have been ill. I believe your mother brought them. May I ask her a few questions?”

Valentine’s jaw firmed. “I’ve already told you. She’s asleep.”

David held the man’s stare, refusing to back down. “The maid has told me she removed a bowl. I believe your mother has been sick too. I’d like to see her.”

“I don’t want to wake her.” 

“Mr. Bamforth, what age is your mother? In her sixties or seventies?”

“Something like that. I don’t like to ask. You know how women are about their age.”

“Mr. Bamforth, I believe your mother has been ill and elderly people can dehydrate very quickly. I must insist on seeing her.” 

Determination flared in Valentine’s grey eyes. “And I must insist on you leaving us in peace. Nobody called you here - your services are not required.”

David’s eyes narrowed. “Has your mother been sick?”

“A little, yes. The maid told you that. She’s passed the worst and is now resting. Now go away and leave us in peace.”

“Are you refusing to allow me to examine your mother,” David demanded.

“Are you thick? Yes, I’m refusing, she was a little ill, now she’s better and she’s resting. She doesn’t need a doctor.”

“With respect, I doubt you are qualified to judge.”

“And, with all due respect, you are not in a position to force treatment on anyone. I am her son and nobody has called you. I’ll thank you to respect our privacy and leave.”

“She brought those cookies to the hat shop. They seem to have made everyone ill. I need to speak to her to establish where she got them from. They pose a threat to public health and I have a duty to investigate.”

“Yeah? What law allows you to enforce that investigation, Doc?”

David hesitated. “Do I need the law? You could be allowing you mother to deteriorate. I’m sure Sheriff Jacobs would have something to say about that.”

Valentine turned his head to listen to the voice coming behind him. He nodded in agreement, but David could only hear the music of a woman’s voice and no actual words. Valentine returned his harsh glare to the waiting doctor. “Now see what you’ve done. You’ve wakened her up, and after she’s had a disturbed night too!”

“Well, there’s no reason for me not to see her now, is there?” David replied, archly.

“She isn’t dressed,” snapped Valentine.

“Excellent, that’ll make it easier to examine her, won’t it?”

The voice drifted around behind Valentine once more. 

“She says she’ll come down to your office later.”

David let out an exasperated sigh. “There’s no need. I’m right here.”

“Later,” barked Valentine, pushing against the door. “Now leave us alone.”

The door slammed firmly in David’s face before the simmering doctor turned and strode down the hotel corridor. There were no laws supporting the arrest of a man preventing his mother from being examined, but if there was a way to force the issue, Carl Jacobs would know it. 

 

Half an hour later another hand rattled against the door of the Bamforth’s hotel room. It opened and Valentine’s scowling face appeared once again. “Doctor Gibson, we meet again. So soon – and you’ve brought the sheriff with you.” Valentine gave a sigh of resignation and stepped back to allow both men to enter the room. “There are no legal grounds for this, doctor. My mother said she’d come by to see you.”

“Yeah,” mused Carl Jacobs, “but what if you didn’t have your mother’s best interests at heart. You could have been using undue influence to prevent medical intervention. We gotta check that out, Mr. Bamforth. People looking to get rid of an inconvenient relative have been known to behave that way.”

“From the way you trotted that out I’m guessing that you’ve just checked it out in a law book, sheriff,” Bamforth sniped. “So I take it that if my mother’s fine you have no reason to harass me any further?”

“I can assure you I am much recovered and was going to see the doctor later, as arranged.” Mrs. Bamforth stood at the door of her adjoining room, leaning on a stick with a carved handle. “Inconvenient? Me? I am quite offended at the insinuation that my son plans to do away with me. Valentine dotes on his mama, don’t you, Valentine.” Her tiny eyes glittered from behind the thick lenses as she gave her son a yellow-toothed smile.

“Yes, Mama,” muttered Valentine. “Who wouldn’t?”

“Who indeed,” simpered Mrs. Bamforth, triumphantly at her off-spring’s declaration of undying love, “now, can I take it that you can now go and leave us in peace?”

“I’d like to examine you, ma’am,” David stepped towards the matron. “I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but you’re not a young woman anymore and I’d just like to make sure you are quite well.”

Mrs. Bamforth took a step back. “Examine me?”

“Just check your stomach, nothing too intimate, ma’am”

The old lady bashed her stick down on the floorboards. “Out of the question! I do not go flashing my navel at just anyone, you know. I am fine! I tend towards having a delicate constitution and I am frequently unwell. That’s why I carry the ginger cookies. Ginger is supposed to settle nausea. I suck peppermints too. Is that some kind of crime?” She fixed Jacobs with a pair of beady eyes. “I fail to see why the law should get involved in the borborygmic episodes of an old lady.”

“Borbo... what did you say?” Jacobs demanded.

“Stomach rumbles,” David murmured. “It’s the medical term for a grumbling stomach.”

Jacob’s smiled in surprise. “There’s a name for that?”

“There is.” David looked at Mrs. Bamforth more intently. “I must confess to being more than a little surprised at a prospector’s mother using medical terms.”

“Do not judge a book by its cover, doctor.” The old lady tilted her head haughtily and walked delicately over to a chair. “I am a voracious reader. I believe the word comes from the French ‘borborygme?’ I do love words and word games. They help to pass the time.” She sat; her hands resting on the handle of her walking stick, the head of a little, carved creature peeking out from between her gloved fingers. “Now; you are not examining me, I’m fine. My son is not trying to kill me with neglect and I am much recovered from a perfectly normal cascogastric bout. Is there anything else?”

Jacobs and David shared a conversation in a glance. “The cookies,” David asked. “Where did you get them? You clearly didn’t make them yourself. There’s no kitchen here you can use.”

“I asked at the front desk and Mrs. Pazzano makes them for me. She’s a wonderful cook.” Mrs. Bamforth blinked in bemusement at the man’s apparent lack of common sense. “Where else would I get them?”

“Mrs. Pazzano makes them?”

“Certainly. Ask her. Why are you so interested in a few medicinal cookies?” Mrs. Bamforth shrugged before glowering imperiously at the two local men. “I’ve been eating them since I came here. You surely aren’t suggesting that a woman as lovely as Mrs. Pazzano is poisoning me, are you mad? What motive could she have?”

David ran his hand through his hair in frustration. There was something very wrong here, but he would be damned if he could put his finger on what it was.

“If that’s everything, I would be obliged if you would leave,” Valentine opened the door and gestured towards the hallway. “This nonsense is upsetting for mother.”

David reluctantly fell in behind Jacobs and walked from the room. “If you need anything, ma’am, be sure and let us know.” Jacobs tipped his hat on the way out. 

“I will.” The clipped feminine response was cut off by the slamming of the door. 

The pair walked a few steps before Jacobs muttered under his breath. “As sure as I’m standing here that man is a flour-flushing, mudsill. I won’t be happy until I’ve got the pair of them banged to rights. They’re up to some kind of chicanery – I’ll stake my life on it.”

“Yes,” David agreed. “But what? I have four women in town who’ve fallen ill since that woman had tea with them. He shows up just before Amy Oliphant is badly injured and – Amy! It’s Amy.” David paused staring at Jacobs. “She wasn’t killed after that accident, now she’s ill? Somebody is out to get her. I’m sure of it. They tried one way, now this?”

Jacobs considered this line of thought as they continued down the stairs. “But she’s getting better - all the women are, and we know somebody was sick up there too. The maid took the bowl away. If you’re going to poison somebody it seems a cack-handed way of doing it.” Jacobs shook his head. “No, that’s not it. I really think it was some kind of stomach ailment, and they’ve all shaken it off. That simply leaves the question of what that pair are up to. For two cents I’d search their room, but I simply don’t have the grounds,” Jacobs heaved a heavy sigh before muttering darkly, “or the opportunity.”

“The woman in your jail – Elsie Dagnabbit – she was sick, and she was eating ginger cookies too. They were in her pocket. She told me so.” David shook his head. “I’m going to speak to Mrs. Pazzano. Everyone who eats ginger cookies gets sick. There’s something going on here.” 

 

The doors to the hotel burst open so quickly they battered against the wall with a clatter. Heyes stepped back to allow a flustered David to scuttle out onto the sidewalk, quickly ducking to avoid the book which fluttered passed the doctor’s head. A dark-haired, wild-eyed woman appeared at the door. “How dare you! I think of myself as one of the best cooks in this town. I raised the most money at the last church bake sale and my jellies are prize-winning!” She turned her head and pinned Heyes with a fierce glare, her ample bosom wobbling from side to side as she stood with her hands on her hips. “What are you looking at?”

“Erm, nothing?” Heyes stammered, hoping that was the correct answer. He clutched his bundle of books to his chest and stared at David, trying to suppress the burgeoning dimples. “David?”

The woman’s eyes started to well with tears and David was quick to take advantage of her moment of weakness to move out of easy range. “I didn’t mean to offend you, Mrs. Pazzano. It’s just that four women, maybe five, who ate your ginger cookies got...”

He was cut off by an unintelligible stream before the Italian matron returned to English again, waving her arms around with every syllable. “I heard you the first time! Nobody ever got sick eating anything I cooked. Why don’t you take a knife and stab me in the heart? Why not rip it out and throw it in the mud before you dance on it?”

“It’s dry,” Heyes ventured, helpfully. “I guess it’d be the dust.”

Mrs. Pazzano wailed again as Heyes grinned at a flustered David. “You’re not helping,” the doctor snapped, picking up his fallen hat.

“Aren’t I?” Heyes snickered. 

Alberto Pazzano appeared behind his wife, his thick arm reaching around his wife’s waist as he nuzzled into her neck. “Hush now, cara mia. The doctor didn’t mean any harm. He said that four or five women loved your cookies so much they gorged themselves on them, didn’t you, Doc?”

“Well, not exactly...” David was cut off by another howl but he persevered, he clearly decided that Alberto was a better bet than his histrionic wife. “It might not have been the cookies. It might be an infection that’s going around, but a good doctor has to eliminate everything.” A whiff of desperation laced the doctor’s words. “I wanted to see the ingredients for that reason.”

“You see, my little sausage? The good doctor only wants to see what you put in your cookies so he will know it’s an infection. He’s trying to get you out of the way so he can get on with the job in hand.” 

“Really?” Heyes looked between the hoteliers and the doctor with an air of irritating, wide-eyed innocence. “That’s what you heard outta what he said?”

David glared at Heyes. “I need to see what went into the cookies.”

Tiziana sniffed before she dabbed at her eyes with her apron. “The usual; flour, eggs, molasses, brown sugar, ground ginger,” she arched an eyebrow before dropping her voice, “and my secret ingredient.”

David’s gaze intensified. “What’s that, Mrs. Pazzano. I need to know.”

Her dark eyes scoured the street for any arch-rivals. “Come with me. This is not for the street.”

David paused at the doorway of the hotel to frown at Heyes who followed like a puppy. “Where are you going? I didn’t say you could come.”

Heyes paused. “I thought you might want some backup.” He smiled nodding towards the book lying in the road like an injured bat. “She’s got a good throwing arm. I wouldn’t want to see her with a tomahawk.”

“I guess they don’t need those for making cookies.” David dropped and looked at the books in Heyes’ arms. “What’s that? Extra ammo?”

“I borrowed some travel books from Amy, but I don’t think she meant me to take her cookbooks and Culpepper’s Herbal when I took the whole pile. I’m taking them back to her.”

David nodded. “Can you look in on her? Randa’s probably there. She was ill last night.”

“Ill?” The smile dropped from Heyes face.

“Yes,” David nodded. “Amy and four other women. They all ate the same cookies at the hat shop. I’m looking into it.”

Heyes stiffened. “David. You’re looking for poison aren’t you?”

“I don’t know yet. I’m keeping an open mind. Nobody kept any of the vomit for me to test.”

“Yeah. You’re looking for poison.” Heyes frowned. “I’ll be at Amy’s, David. We need to talk about this. It’s too much of a coincidence after the accident.” 

Tricia opened the door and smiled at Heyes. “She’s at Randa’s?”

Heyes nodded and walked in, following Tricia’s inviting hand. “The sheriff’s here too,” Tricia led the way to the kitchen. “Coffee?”

Heyes took the proffered cup and sat at the table with them. “So - are either of you going to try to convince me this is nothing to do with me?” 

“We don’t know that it is, Heyes.” Jacobs sat back and stretched his legs in front of himself. “I’m gonna need to know a whole lot more about her past. I sent another telegram to the Pinkertons to see what they know about her – and the Bamforths.”

Heyes frowned. “I thought Cage already said they checked out.”

“He said they are who they say they are. That doesn’t mean they don’t have some kind of connection to Amy.”

Heyes rubbed his chin. “Can Cage get out here?”

Jacobs shook his head. “He doesn’t work for the Pinkerton Agency anymore. He left.”

Heyes felt his stomach knot. Cage had all the time in the world to spend with Abigail and he had little doubt that he would be making the most of that opportunity. “So who are you dealing with?”

“The response came from the ‘Duty Desk.’ It seems like they’ve washed their hands of the whole thing now.”

“I don’t suppose we can blame them,” Heyes muttered. “They gave us way more support that we could’ve expected.”

“Yeah,” Jacobs gave a wry smile. “It’s almost like you had something on them and they consider the debt paid, huh?”

The ex-outlaw and the lawman exchanged a knowing glance. “Me?” Heyes shrugged. “I guess if you dance with the devil you’re gonna get some dirt on your clothes. Can I help it if they want to hide a few smuts?”

“Whatever, Heyes. It’s over now. You’re on your own.”

“Yeah, I sure am.” Heyes sipped at his coffee. Was it more bitter than usual or was that the taste of craw stuck in his throat? “David, somebody booby-trapped that shelving unit – and now this happens. Has she been poisoned?” 

“Hannibal, if this had happened in isolation we’d just put it down to a normal stomach upset.”

Heyes put his cup on the table. “But it didn’t. She’d only been back home two weeks after she was nearly killed.” 

“All the women ate the cookies and they all have got ill, but the ingredients all seemed fine.” David sighed. “They all drunk the tea too, poured from the same pot in front of one another. Amy said it was Orange Pekoe or something?”

Heyes cast his memory back. “Yeah, she had that delivered recently. Randa and I have drunk that and been fine, David.”

“I have too,” Tricia added. “It’s very refreshing.”

“Abi used to say she didn’t believe in coincidences, and I agree with her.” The darkness in Heyes eyes intensified. “Amy’s at Randa’s and I took her out the back door of her shop so people don’t know she’s gone. I’m spending the night at the shop. If they think she’s weak and alone they might make a move.”

Jacobs sat upright. “I don’t like it, Heyes. It sounds like taking the law into your own hands.”

Heyes faced the lawman with quiet determination. “Then stay there with me, sheriff. Let’s see what we find out. What’s the worst that can happen if you’re there?” 

 

Heyes sat staring into the darkness, a hollow ache gnawing at his guts. So Cage was no longer a Pinkerton and as far as he knew Abi and Anya were back at Mayzee’s. The warm memories of his time at that place were now tainted with the malignant stain of jealousy. Anya was such an outgoing and lively child. Would she be climbing on that man just as he’d seen Jake climb over his pa? What about Abi – dammit, why did his mind have to take him there? Logically, he wished her well and hoped she’d find someone, but in reality, the thought sickened him.

He stirred, the creaking of the chair momentarily giving his streaming thoughts something else to focus upon, but before he knew it his mind was back there; replaying how her fingers stroking through his hair, the way her lopsided smile would light up her face, and the provocation in her ebony eyes. Ah, the challenge! He had surely met her at the right time; when he and trouble had been such bosom buddies. Nobody ever pushed him as far and expected more, but how ironic that the less she’d wanted the more he needed, but wasn’t that the genius of all women? Didn’t Randa do the same in her own quiet, unassuming way?

Randa - dear, kind, beautiful Randa. She had been thoughtful and patient - and Abi had pushed him towards her. A smile twitched at his lips. You could say what you liked about Abi, but she was rarely wrong. 

A thought hit him straight between the eyes. He and Abi had been made for one another, riding the foaming crest of a wave of passion until it crashed down on the rocks, but she had been made for the man he was – and experience had changed both of them. Abi had met him at his worst and dared him to give her more, but that man would have frightened Randa and he knew it. Heyes had a future here, one which made peace with his past. Abigail had wished him well and walked away – it was now time for him to do the same for her. 

“How long are we gonna wait here, Heyes?” Jacobs whispered. “It’s way passed midnight.”

“Yeah, well I would never have made a move this early. You do what you want, but I’m staying.”

Heyes could hear the voice next to him, laden with doubt and suspicion. “Maybe I’ll wait. We wouldn’t want you getting into trouble would we?”

“I certainly don’t, Sheriff, so I appreciate the support.” Heyes worked hard to put his next point as delicately as possible. “I know you’re not used to this kind of work, but can you shut up? Someone might be listening.”

“I’ll be as quiet as a mouse,” Jacobs chuckled, lightly.

“Nobody who ever tread on one in the dark would ever think they’re quiet,” Heyes muttered. “Look, why don’t you lie down on the bed and I’ll take the first shift?”

“Good idea. Wake me at the first sign of anything. I mean it, Heyes.”

“Sheriff, I want to stay free. I’ve learned my lesson. Just rest, huh?”

 

Heyes' head dropped in that torpid, somnolent half-consciousness that became familiar to anyone who’d ever been involved in the long, boring ennui of a stakeout, but although his eyes were flickering shut, his ears were fully primed to the slightest noise – and that was all he heard - the tiniest, negligible metallic scratch through the darkness. The dark eyes snapped open, instantly alert and ready.

Heyes knew that sound. It was a lock pick. Somebody was working at the back door which led directly on to the kitchen. Heyes twitched at the curtain masking the bedroom from the kitchen and peered through. The tinkering sounds became more insistent. Heyes glanced over to the bed; it was time to wake Jacobs.

“Hmm,” the sheriff was roused by the ex-outlaw who had clamped a hand firmly over his mouth before hissing quietly in his ear. 

“Get up. There’s someone trying to pick the lock.” 

Jacobs shook the drowsiness from his system and snatched at his hat. An unspoken agreement instantly fell into place between the two men who drew their guns and flattened against the wall on either side of the curtain. 

The puttering sounds stopped suddenly. Heyes and Jacobs stared into one another’s eyes through the poor light at the sound of a doorknob faintly rattling before a gust of night air hit their faces. The door was open. Heyes’ concentration focused on an almost instinctual level. Was that the sound of somebody creeping into the kitchen, or was his imagination running away with him? He held his breath and waited until the sound of drawers opening drifted through the curtain. 

The intruder was now in the kitchen; passed the curtain. Heyes and the sheriff were between him and the door. He was trapped.

Heyes and Jacobs nodded, faintly lit by the thin, pale moonlight streaming through the thin curtains. It was time. 

The two men swept out into the kitchen in unison, pointing their guns straight at the slight, shadowy figure who dropped a jar in shock at the orders barked by the two armed men.

“Hands up where we can see them!” and, “Don’t move!”

Jacobs stepped forward and pushed the figure against the wall before patting down his pockets and legs. “He’s unarmed.”

“Please, mister,” a thin, weedy, youthful voice cut through the shadows. “I ain’t done nuthin’. I’m jus hungry.”

Jacobs pulled a pair of handcuffs from his back pocket and drew the lad’s hands behind his back before clutching at the back of his neck and steering him into the bedroom where Heyes lit the oil lamp. 

“Name?” barked Jacobs.

The boy looked about twelve in his oversized jacket, with big, scared eyes darting around and the whites of his eyes catching the light under his flat cap.

“I asked you a question, boy. What’s your name?”

“Bert,” the boy seemed to think the better of his answer. “Albert Constantine Alexander Igor de Pfeffle D’Anjou.”

“Huh?” Jacobs and Heyes shared a frown.

“My full name.” The boy’s lip started to tremble. “Ma always said I came from good stock, but that don’t fill a belly.”

“Where’s your ma now?” Jacobs demanded of the lad.

“Dead, like my pa.”

The lad looked terrified but both men knew that a boy who can pick locks was already deeply involved with the criminal underclass.

“Where do you live?”

Bert hesitated. “Nowhere,” he shook his head distractedly. “Anywhere I can.”

Heyes arched an eyebrow. “You’re with someone. Who sent you?”

“Nobody.”

Heyes softened his tone, crouching down to meet the dirty face. “You’ve got meat on your bones, so you’re clearly not starving. Somebody looks after you. Who is it, son?”

The big eyes stared mutely back at the ex-outlaw.

“Look, we’re not going to hurt you. In fact, you remind me a lot of myself at the same age and I want to spare you a lot of the heartbreak that life brought me. Someone taught you how to pick locks and told you to break in here. Who and why?”

“I never picked the lock. The door was left open.”

“Don’t lie to me, lad. I wrote the book on that. The door was locked, I did it myself.” Heyes narrowed his eyes. “Where do I know you from?” 

“Church?” Bert countered, cheekily.

“Completely impossible. Man, folks must’ve wanted to strangle me at times.” Heyes stood upright with a sigh. “I suppose we’d better get him over to the jailhouse. I guess we’ll break him given a little time.”

“Jail?” tears welled in the boy’s eyes. “I can’t go to jail.” 

The sheriff folded his arms. “You should have thought about that before you became a snakesman.”

The boy pouted. “Snakes? I don’t like snakes.” 

“A snakesman is what criminals call a skinny, little boy they teach to break into buildings for them, and well you know it,” Jacobs barked. “Now! Who’re you working with?”

“Me.” The voice came from the darkness behind them, accompanying the sinking feeling in their stomachs and the snort of irritation from Heyes at being duped into dropping his guard, “and I have a gun pointed at your back. Now, very carefully - using only two fingers, remove your weapons from your holsters and kick them over here, behind you.” 

“Bamforth,” Heyes muttered, his gun thumping on the floor beside him. “I’d know that voice anywhere.”

“Well, I guess my little stay here is up. Kick those guns over here,” Bamforth muttered. “Bert, get over here.”

“They’ve got me handcuffed.”

“The keys, sheriff, and be real careful when you two turn around. No false moves.”

“I’ll hunt you down, Bamforth. I’ll find you,” Jacobs turned slowly with his arms raised. “You’ll be easy to find, with you owning a factory and all.”

“A factory?” Bamforth smiled mysteriously as he crouched to pick up the keys. “Yeah, good luck with that.” He fumbled around until one of the manacles was released, leaving Bert to remove the other by himself.

“Why are you trying to kill Amy?” Heyes demanded.

“Kill? I’m no killer, Mr. Heyes.”

“Do you expect me to believe that? First she’s nearly crushed to death, and you break into her home after a suspected poisoning?”

Bamforth gestured toward the bed with his gun. “Frankly, I don’t care what you believe and I don’t have time to convert you. Now, you two are going to lie down on the bed, side by side.”

“Huh?”

The handcuffs were thrust into the boy’s hands as Bamforth’s smile spread. “You’re going to handcuff yourselves to the bedstead and young Bert here is going to make sure they’re not too slack. We wouldn’t want you getting out, would we?”

“On the bed? You’re kidding!” exclaimed Heyes.

“On the bed,” Bamforth commanded. “Who knows, maybe you can get some sleep until somebody finds you? I’m very kind, aren’t I?”

Heyes complied, giving a huff of irritation as Jacobs snapped the manacle around Heyes’ wrist before threading it behind a brass bar and attaching it to his own arm.

Bamforth approached the bed and smiled down at his captives. “Now Bert is going to make sure they’re good and tight.” Bamforth aimed the gun at the sheriff’s foot. “I’m acutely aware that you have a free hand each, so if either of you feels like doing anything to him I’ll have to shoot off Mr. Jacob’s big toe. Have you got that?” 

“We’ll find you, Bamforth,” hissed Heyes as the lad leaned over him to press the cuff as tightly around the wrists as possible. “If it takes...” He stopped dead at the feel of the body pressing against his arm. That yielding cushion of flesh was not only deliciously familiar, it was most definitely not found on the body of a pubescent boy. He stared up at the face leaning over him. “Elsie! You’re Elsie Dagnabbit.” 

The green eyes dropped down to his in surprise as Bamforth guffawed with laughter. “Elsie Dagnabbit? That’s priceless.”

She climbed off the bed glowering at him indignantly. “My name is Elise. Elise Daignault. Now see what you’ve done! He’ll never let me forget that.”

“Day-n-no...” Heyes repeated. “All I needed was to hear somebody say it properly.”

“We’re handcuffed to a bed and you’re practising the pronunciation of her name!” Jacobs spluttered.

“What do you suggest I do?” Heyes retorted. “Anyway, I like to learn from my mistakes.”

“Really? You’re about forty years too late.”

“I’d get some sleep if I were you,” Bamforth grinned. “You’re gonna be here until somebody breaks into the place.” 

The men lay back on the bed and listened helplessly to the back door closing and locking behind them. “So?” Jacobs twisted his head around to glare at Heyes. “Get on with it.”

“What?” There was something about Heyes’ most innocent look which seemed to be a glimmer of the devil himself.

“Get us out of this,” Jacobs demanded. “You pick locks.”

“I’m going straight.”

“Don’t tell me you don’t have a lock pick on you, ‘cos I’m not buying it.”

“A lock pick? Sheriff, I’m an honest man now. Why would I need a lock pick?”

“Heyes, you don’t expect me to believe that you’d just lie here and wait if you were on your own.” Jacobs rattled the handcuffs against the bedstead. “Get picking!” 

“Well, I may have something I can use,” Heyes shrugged. “It’s not a lock pick you understand, just a bit of metal.”

“Heyes, unless it’s a stick of dynamite, use it!” Jacobs paused. “And one more thing.”

“Yes, sheriff?”

“Not a word to anyone about this. I’ll be a laughing stock if this gets out.”

“Sheriff, I don’t come out of this any better than you do.” Heyes reached down and pulled a piece of metal from his boot. “Not a word will pass my lips, I promise you.” 

Within seconds Heyes had the lock pick inserted into the lock and with just a little bit of manoeuvring both men heard a quiet 'click' and the bracelet around Heyes' wrist fell open. The ex-outlaw turned his attention to the second bracelet as Jacobs let out a silent whistle and shook his head in amazement. “I swear,” he commented. “the better I get to know you the more respect I have for Marshal Morrison.”

Heyes' jaw tightened in mild hatred. “Morrison's a bastard.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Jacobs agreed as the second bracelet came free, “but he's the only lawman who was able to get you to trial, and he got ya' there alive too. He didn't have to do that Heyes ya' know. He coulda' just killed ya'. It would have made his life a whole lot simpler. You gotta respect him for that.”

“What?” Heyes grumbled as the two men got off the bed and headed for the exit. “Getting me to trial or not killing me?” 

Jacobs laughed quietly. “Both!”

 

Randa and Amy looked up from their breakfast teacups expectantly as Heyes and Sheriff Jacobs followed Tricia into the kitchen. 

“Well? I bet it was a long boring night for you two?” grinned Amy.

Jacobs and Heyes shared a look. “Not much happened. That’s true”

“I told you. Why would anyone be after me? It was just a stomach upset.”

Jacobs turned his hat in his hands. “Well, why don’t we have a chat about that down at my office once you’re finished here? I understand that the doc wants to check you out, we’ll go afterwards.”

“Your office?” Amy frowned. “Why?”

The two men’s eyes met again. “I just want to be sure, ma’am. There’s nothing for you to worry about. I like to be thorough.”

“You certainly do, sheriff. I still think you’re wasting your time though, why would anyone want to harm a little hat maker from Chicago?” She shrugged. “Maybe I made hats for a wedding that didn’t work out, huh?”

“Well, that explains why the sheriff’s here,” Randa sat back, “but what about you, Hannibal?”

“I saw the Kid at the store. He was like a chicken with two heads -I couldn’t get any sense out of him. Thank goodness he had a list or he wouldn’t have made any sense at all. He said Beth was here to see David. Is she ill too?”

The women exchanged a knowing smile. “I don’t think so. She’s with David now. He insists on seeing patients alone, you know.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Heyes muttered.

“Jed wasn’t too happy about that,” murmured Tricia, “David had to show him the door.”

Heyes nodded. “He did mention that, quite a few times, in fact.”

“I’ll bet,” Tricia chuckled. “He wasn’t happy.”

“I know. What’s going on? Why is she seeing the doc if she’s not ill?”

Miranda stood and handed the two men a cup, rolling her eyes at her cousin. “Men! Are you sure nobody turned up last night? Half the time you can’t see what’s right under your nose.” 

Both men’s cups rattled slightly before Heyes spoke. “What’s going on? If she’s ill I have the right to know.”

Tricia sighed. “And I thought you were supposed to be smart. You have the right to know what she wants you to know, and nothing more.” 

Heyes was still scowling when the door to David’s study opened and Beth stepped out, her brown eyes glowing and her knuckles white as she clutched her parasol all of a dither. She turned, catching sight of Heyes in the kitchen before she bustled towards him. “Oh, where’s Jed?” She glanced around the room, the whites of her eyes flashing in excitement.

“He’s at the store, I just saw him there. Beth, what’s going on?” Heyes demanded.

She shook her head. “No. Not now. I have to find Jed. I have to tell him...”

The women started to laugh. “Tell him?” Miranda asked, archly.

“Oh, that’s not fair! No guessing. Jed has to be the first.”

Heyes gave a snort of irritation. “First? Guessing what?” 

Miranda clasped her hands to her face. “Honestly! And he says he wants to be a detective. Drink your coffee, if you can find it!”

“He's over at the store?” Beth asked, all breathless in her excitement.

Heyes nodded as he took a swallow of coffee. “If you want to wait a minute, I'll walk you over there.”

“No, no!” Beth exclaimed as she headed for the door. “I need to talk to him, right now.”

“Oh, alright.” Heyes took another quick gulp and set his cup down. “I'll go with...”

Tricia and Miranda both made a concerted run at the obtuse male and each grabbing an arm turned him back around to face his coffee cup.

“Oh, no you don't.” Miranda told him.

“What...?”

“You just sit down and finish your coffee, Hannibal.” Tricia told him. “I think this is one conversation that needs to be done in private.”

“What do you mean...?”

The door to David's study opened and the man himself walked out. He took one look at the congregation that was gathered in his kitchen and stopped dead in his tracks.

“David!” Heyes was grasping at straws. “What's going on? Is Beth alright? She's not sick is she...?”

David rolled his eyes and instantly turned on his heels and disappeared inside his study again, being sure to close the door behind him. Heyes stopped before he could take one step, his mouth dropping in comical surprise.

“Coward,” Tricia mumbled under her breath.

 

Beth hurried away from the doctor's residence, her skirt hoisted up to prevent herself from tripping over them as she half walked, half ran towards the mercantile. Her excitement was growing with each step she took so that by the time she arrived at the store front she was almost sobbing with emotion. She pushed her way through the front door and looked around the store but not seeing her husband anywhere. 

Her hand came up to her mouth in angsty anxiety, thinking that she had perhaps somehow missed him and he was already heading back towards the ranch. The fact that she had come in on the wagon with him and that he was indeed waiting upon her arrival had totally escaped her conscious thought.

“Beth.” The store clerk approached her with a friendly smile. “You looking for your husband?”

“Yes!” Beth exclaimed, still frantically looking about her. “Is he still here?”

“He's just out the back, getting the wagon loaded up,” the clerk informed her. “You can always wait for him in...here...” his voice trailed off as the young Mrs. Curry headed for the back loading dock, totally oblivious to the smiles that were aimed in her direction from the few other patrons in the store. 

Beth came out onto the dock and had no trouble spotting the double J rig since it was the only one back there. Jed had it backed up against the bay and was in the bed getting the last of the supplies stacked and tied down for the trip back to the ranch. The team of horses were standing patiently, each sitting down on a back hoof, taking advantage of the time to doze in the hot sun before having to haul the wagon back home. 

“Jed!” Beth called to him, her smile intensifying as she hurried over to the loading bay.

Jed glanced up with a questioning look, then grinned himself as he took in his wife's expression. He moved to come to meet her but she beat him to it, and stepping nimbly across from the bay into the bed of the wagon, she ran into his arms. 

“Whoa, Beth darlin',” Jed held her close. “You should be more careful. Don't want ya' fallin'.” He gazed down into her sparkling brown eyes and his heart did a flip. “What did David say?”

“Yes!” The one word came out in an excited rush. She started to laugh and jump up and down. “Yes, yes, yes!”

The two horses raised their heads briefly at the commotion going on behind them but didn't take long to settle back into their naps. It was nothing important.

“Yes!?” Jed repeated as his brows raised and his whole face lit up. “Yes? Is he sure?”

“Yes!” Beth assured him. “It's still early yet, but yes!”

“Ho ho,” Jed laughed and hugged his wife to him. “Aw, Beth, darlin'. I can hardly believe it. I'm gonna be a papa!” He lifted Beth up off her feet and hugged her even tighter. “Ho ho, I gotta tell Heyes.”

“Oh, I don't know,” Beth said as Jed put her back down on her feet. “I don't know if we should say anything this soon.”

“Well why not?” Jed asked her. “If you are, you are.”

“But David said that the first three months are very crucial,” Beth explained. “We might want to wait...” 

“Aw Beth, I don't think I can wait another month before being able to tell anybody,” Jed admitted. “Especially Heyes. And what about your folks? Do you really think you're gonna hide news like this from your ma?”

Beth smiled and her eyes sparkled even more. “No,” she giggled. “She'll know it the minute I walk in the door.”

“Yeah. So...” 

“Just family then,” Beth conceded.

“Alright,” Jed agreed. “Just family.”

He smiled down at her and then cupping her face in his one hand he leaned over and kissed her.

 

Later that evening, Jed and Heyes were relaxing out on the front porch with their after dinner coffee's. Beth and Belle were in the kitchen tidying up while Jesse was getting caught up with the end of the month paperwork. J.J. was laying on his stomach in the sitting room entertaining himself with a picture story book. He would be starting school in the fall and he wanted to get a jump on his letters so he could impress everyone with how bright he was. This enthusiasm was greatly encouraged though likely to be short lived once the reality of classes and homework started to get in the way of his play time.

To all outward appearances the partner's were relaxed and comfortable watching the evening begin to close down around them, but on closer inspection it could be said that the silence between them was slightly strained. When Jed and Beth had made their excited announcement at the dinner table Heyes' reaction was anything but spontaneous joy. Oh, he'd put on a good act, smiling and congratulating the couple on their happy news, but Jed caught him looking away when the older cousin thought everyone was too distracted to pay any attention to him.

So now, coffee out on the porch started off quiet and contemplative. Jed's excitement at the news was diminished some degree by this cousin's less than thrilled response and he was trying to wait patiently for his cousin to explain himself. Finally Jed gave up waiting since the stoic one beside him continued to be just that; stoic.

“Heyes...”

“I know!” Heyes cut him off abruptly as though he'd been waiting for Jed to start the conversation.

Jed shrugged. “Well?”

“I don't know.”

“You know how important this is to us, that Beth and I really want this,” Jed reminded him. “Why aren't you happy for me?”

Heyes sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I don't know,” he repeated. 

Silence again prevailed. Jed waited for Heyes to elaborate and Heyes waited for inspiration to hit. “I guess I'm just...” Heyes began, then stopped in his tracks and sighed again. 

“What?” Jed pushed. 

“It just sounds so petty... I don't even want to say it.”

“You're jealous!” Jed stated bluntly and Heyes grimaced. “You're jealous because I've found everything that you thought you had and then lost.”

Heyes' grimace practically turned into a snarl as he shifted uncomfortably in the hot seat.

“That's it, isn't it?” Jed pushed. “You're jealous.”

“NO!” Heyes protested.

“No?”

“NO! Well...maybe...I don't know. Well, yeah...alright. FINE! Alright. You're right; I'm jealous, okay? You happy now?”

“Heyes...” Jed's tone softened. “You got nothin' to be jealous about. You've got this too. It's right under your nose, you just have to be willin' to accept it.” More tight lipped, stoic silence. “C'mon Heyes, don't be like this. I want ya' to be happy for us. I know you; once you get used to the idea you're gonna love havin' a little second cousin, or niece or nephew or whatever ya' call it, to be runnin' around with. You can teach him how to pick locks and play poker!”

“Hmm.” Heyes was still grumbling.

Jed became serious again. “Or is it because you're afraid that I'm not gonna have time for you anymore. That I'm movin' ahead with my own family and that my cousin isn't going to have a place in it.”

Heyes sunk even deeper into his chair, his fists absently clutching and releasing the arms of it, sending out the signal loud and clear that Jed had hit the nail on the head.

“It's stupid!” Heyes finally snapped, feeling angry with himself. “I know it's stupid! You and Beth aren't going anywhere, I know that.”

“That's right,” Jed agreed. “We're not going anywhere. You're the one who was plannin' on leavin' and you already know how I feel about that.”

“Yeah.” Heyes nodded and stared out at the barn as the evening light began to fade. “Well, you can relax with that. I guess I'd pretty much decided not to go, so...”

“Yeah, I gathered,” Jed admitted. “It's been a while and you haven't said anything about leavin', so...”

“Yeah.”

“I'm glad, Heyes,” Jed assured him. “Like I said, I don't want ya' to go. I want ya' to be part of our family. I mean, we are family. Nothin' is gonna change that,” Jed laughed. “The family's growin' that's all.”

Heyes grinned. “Yeah, it sure is. It's just...I don't know. I used to be able to handle change pretty well but then for five years there my life was just the same old same old and the world it seemed was passing me by. Now this past year has just been crazy—so many changes. It's like a whirlwind and I'm having a hard time keeping up.”

“Yeah,” Jed nodded. “I can sure understand that. Beth and I waited so long to get married and then all of a sudden, there it was and now we're expectin'.” Jed couldn't help the glittering smile that took over his face. “Talk about changes! It's kinda scary if I let myself really stop and think about it; I have no idea what kind of father I'm gonna to be.”

“Yeah,” Heyes reflected. “I suppose the one advantage of me and Abi being apart was that fatherhood was just suddenly thrust upon me. I didn't have time to think about it, all of a sudden, there it was.” He smiled, sadly. “There's nothing like holding your own child in your arms. Once that happens you'll feel a love that you've never felt before. It just takes over; it becomes your priority and nothing else matters. When Rebecca died...” Heyes stopped talking and quietly shook his head.

“Yeah, I know, Heyes,” Jed commented softly. “I remember how hard that was on you, but you just shut yourself off and I didn't know how to help ya'.  But Belle has talked to me about that too, around the time when Sam and Maribelle were going through those hard times. Belle told me that she and Jesse lost one of their children too and she gave me some insight as to what that had been like to go through.”

Heyes looked over at his cousin. “Belle and Jesse lost a child?”

“Yeah,” Jed nodded. “A boy. He arrived shortly after Beth but he only lived for about five days.”

“Oh,” Heyes looked back across the yard, his thoughts far away. “I didn't know that.”

Jed sighed, taking a sip of coffee. “I just hope I can be a good father,” he said and smiled reflectively. “I was here throughout J.J.'s early years and I saw how challenging it can be. I just don't know if I'll have the patience. Beth, yeah. She was so good with J.J. and helped her mother out a lot. But me? Man...I donno. And Jesse! When it comes to being a father he raises the standard pretty high. He just always seems to know what to do.”

Heyes chuckled. “You're forgetting that he's already had two daughters to raise. I bet he felt just as lost and uncertain about fatherhood when Bridget came along. I suppose parenthood is an on-going process; you never stop learning.”

“Yeah,” Jed agreed. “He did kinda allude to that as well. He said that he and Belle used to fight a lot when the girls were young but that they learned to grow beyond that and work together.”

“Really?” Heyes was almost incredulous. “I find that hard to imagine. He always seems so...in control.”

“Hmm,” the Kid's thoughts went back a few years and he rubbed his jaw in sympathetic memory. “He sure let me have it once though, socked me right on the jaw—sent me sprawling.”

Heyes brows went up. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

Heyes chuckled. “You must have been asking for it.”

Kid snorted. “Thanks for your support there, Heyes!” he shot back at him, teasingly. “But yeah; I was behaving like a real bastard during that time. I cringe about it now when I think back. It was probably a good thing that Jesse took me to task at that point; it really made me stop and think about what I was doin' and what was important to me. He always seems to know when to get tough.”

“Yeah, he took me to task too,” Heyes admitted.

“He did? When?”

“He came out to the prison,” Heyes explained. “It was after I'd tried to...well, you know. After I...”

“Yeah, I know, Heyes.”

Heyes nodded, grateful to his partner for not making him actuality say it. “He sure wasn't putting up with any of my excuses. Everything I was telling myself, every justification I had made to condone my behaviour he shot them all down. Wasn't having none of it. He didn't sock me on the jaw, but he got his point home none the less.”

Jed smiled. “Yeah. We sure have tried his patience haven't we, partner?”

“Yup.” Heyes grinned. “But like Belle says; that's what families are for. And after all that, he even allowed you to marry his daughter. Ya' must have done something right!”

“Yeah, I suppose so.”

The two men sat quietly for a few moments, listening to the night sounds. Darkness had fallen though the evening was still warm and comfortable. Neither of them seemed in any hurry to get up and return indoors.

“You're gonna make a great father,” Heyes finally commented. “I am happy for you; for you and Beth. And you're right. The same opportunity is waiting for me as well. All I have to do is decided that I want it.”

“I know you're still unhappy, Heyes,” Jed assured him. “Miranda knows it too. You just need some time that's all.”

Heyes chuckled. “Kenny said pretty much the same thing,” he admitted. “Geez—talk about another one who doesn't mind taking me to task!” Suddenly Heyes' expression turn reflective again as a thought struck him. “Oh....”

“What?”

“Promises made,” Heyes repeated. “Jeez, I've just had an epiphany.”

Jed smiled. “Oh yeah? What about?”

“Both Jesse and Kenny reprimanded me for the same thing,” Heyes admitted, almost in disbelief. “Making promises and then turning my back on them when the going got tough.”

Jed's smile dropped. He could tell by Heyes' expression and tone that is was no light realization. This mattered to him.

“I always saw myself as honourable,” Heyes admitted. “I mean, a crook sure, but I always thought my word was good. Now it seems that the two men whom I have come to respect more than I would ever have thought possible tell me quite blatantly that I'm just.....”

“No, Heyes,” Jed tried to give him quiet assurance. “I'm sure they were talking about extreme situations. You can't....”

“But isn't that when it's most important to keep your word?” Heyes asked. “Suddenly I can see very clearly why Governor Barber didn't lift the parole. Yup! I can see it plain as day, and dammit—he was right!' Heyes sighed dramatically. “Geesh! Forty years old and I'm just starting to figure things out! I just can't get away with anything any more!”

“Well at least you're startin' ta' figure things out now!” Jed told him with a chuckle “And you say that I've got a hard head!” Then Jed laughed outright. “Different kinda life, ain't it Heyes!” he said. “Not quite the same thing as runnin' an outlaw gang!”

“No! It sure isn't!” Heyes adamantly agreed and he smiled over at his cousin. “It's better! Harder, and certainly humiliating at times—but definitely better!”

“Ha ha!” The two men tapped their coffee cups together. “Yeah!”

“Congratulations Kid! You're gonna be a papa!”

 

The fourth of July celebrations were in full swung, with the parade being led by a brass band down the main street to a field where numerous vender stalls offered games, refreshments and competitions of all kinds until it was dark enough to enjoy the firework display. The women from the church took the opportunity to raise some much needed funds from stalls selling preserves, baked goods, and embroidered fripperies of all sizes. A scowling Mrs. Bateman had also produced a pamphlet of ‘Economic Household Tips for Frontier Ladies’ full of her favourite recipes and hints, but it was a hit for all the wrong reasons. Much to her displeasure the font of all knowledge was causing much hilarity amongst the younger population of Brookswood. Her gimlet eye never wavered from the young man holding court with the giggling girls surrounding him.

“Snacks for entertaining. Take bread and toast on both sides before spreading with the finest lard...” The girls’ twittering encouraged the young man who was delighted to find that the female of the species is attracted by a sense of humour. Who knew? The youth continued. “We now have a delicious array of economic delicacies to adorn your toast from pickled sheep’s brains to mock-turtle made from lights and calf’s foot. The best way to remove the bristles is over a flame...” The lad grinned, pushing his luck. “Great book, Mrs. Bateman. Ya got any brains?”

“Get out of here, Wilfred Symes. That book is for ladies!”

He grinned at his harem of fifteen year olds. “So I see. They can’t get enough of it!” he strolled off, his voice carrying in the wind. “The mangle is a wonderful device to make old bread go further...” 

“Honestly! Young people today. I just do not know what the world is coming to,” muttered Mrs. Bateman.

Amy smiled at her from her seat behind the drinks stall. “Take no notice of him, Mrs. Bateman. He’s only doing it to get a reaction from you, and to impress some silly girls.”

“I despair, I really do. Men like that are supposedly the future of this country. How can we ever hold our heads up in the salons of the East when idiots like Wilfred Symes insists on playing the giddy goat?”

“I think you need a nice, calming camomile tea,” Amy stood and limped over to the large water boiler. “I’ll get you a cup.”

“Should you be walking without crutches?” asked the concerned matron.

“A little, yes. I need to build up my strength.”

“Well, you make sure you don’t do too much.”

“I’ll be careful.” Amy handed Mrs. Bateman a cup. “Now, do you know what goes so well with that? A spot of honey. Would you like some?”

 

“Ooh, I don’t know what looks best,” Beth and Jed strolled along the trestle tables eyeing the delicious selection of treats. “These brownies look superb.  Would you like one, Jed?”

A pair of hungry blue eyes lighted on the apple pie. “How about that?”

“How about you two join me in a cup of tea and I’ll treat you to the snack of your choice,” Amy asked. “I was just about to join Mrs. Bateman in a cup of camomile tea, but if you’re having one too I’ll make a pot.”

The Kid shook his head doubtfully. “Tea? Is there any coffee?”

“Coffee? Of course there is. I’ll need someone to carry the tray for me, though.” Amy selected the treats from the table, lifting the little gauze insect protectors and carefully replacing them. “I’ll pay, remember. Would you like some cream with that, Jed?”

They all settled at one of the little tables and Amy proceeded to place their selected dainties in front of each recipient. “Your coffee,” the cup was placed beside the pie, “and our camomile tea.” Amy placed a controlling finger on the lid to hold it in place while she poured out the two cups of golden liquid in turn. 

“Honey? I always have honey.”

“Why not,” Beth nodded.

Amy sipped at her tea before giving Beth a wide-eyed, innocent smile. “So, how have you been?”

“I’m well, thanks.”

Amy arched her brows and her smile widened. “Good. You make sure you look after her, Jed”

Beth put her cup down with a clatter. “Does everyone know?”

Amy shook her head, chuckling lightly. “No, I was at David’s remember? I promise you I haven’t said a word to anyone. I haven’t even discussed it with Randa in case anyone overheard. This is your news and you must tell everyone when you feel ready.”

Beth heaved a sigh of relief, dropping her voice conspiratorially. “Thank goodness, it’s so early yet. I don’t think I could take the whole town knowing.”

“It’s wonderful news, Beth. I’m so happy for both of you.”

Beth cast a glance at her husband. “It is. He hasn’t stopped smiling for days. His face must be aching by now.”

The Kid dropped a hand over his wife’s before lifting it to his lips and kissing her fingers gently. “I still can’t quite believe it. It’s the best news I ever had in my life.” He tilted his head. “Well, since she said she’d marry me.” 

“Better than amnesty?” Beth queried.

“Way better.”

The women glanced down at Jed’s empty plate and started to laugh. “I didn’t even see you eat that! Did you inhale it?” Amy chuckled.

“It was real good,” grinned the Kid.

Amy stood. “Why don’t I get you another? You are eating for two.”

“I thought it was the woman who was supposed to do that,” Beth exclaimed.

Amy gave a tinkling laugh. “Generally, yes, but from what I’ve heard he’s always been like that. I’ll go get that pie. Can you pour me another cup of tea from that pot, Beth? It’s going down rather well.” 

“I think I’ll have another one too,” Beth smiled. “I guess I’m drinking for two.” She glanced over at her husband with a smile. “I’ll leave the eating for two to Jed. He doesn’t have to wear stays.”

 

The matron in the green gingham dress casually perused the baked goods stall through a pair of thick glasses, her mousey hair in a neat bun under her straw bonnet. 

“Can I get you anything?” Amy smiled, helpfully.

“It all looks so good.” The woman’s green eyes drifted over to a man sporting a fine pair of mutton-chops. “Let me see what my husband would like.”

“We’re serving tea and sandwiches too in that little tent if you’d like to have a seat.”

“That does sound attractive,” the woman smiled. “A cool seat in the shade.”

“How’s business?” Carl Jacobs wandered over, casting a proprietorial eye around the festivities while Joe Morin stared at a tray of muffins with hungry anticipation.

Amy stared at the back of the green gingham dress as its owner bustled rapidly away from the stall. “It was good until you turned up.” She arched her eyebrows. “Why don’t you head over to the boy’s group? They’re stealing a lot of our clientele.”

Jacobs' gaze drifted over to the boys’ stall with a wry smile. “Nah, they’re throwing those balls at the pastor for five cents a go, but I’ve got an idea that a silver star might end up being more of a target.”

Amy chuckled. “You may just be right, sheriff,” she glanced at Joe. “Let me treat you. Please, as a thank you for everything you’ve done for me. Anything from the stall, what do you say?”

“I’m fine, but maybe Joe would like something?”

All eyes turned to the young lawman. “Are those blueberries in those muffins?” he queried.

“Big juicy ones,” Amy chirruped. She lifted the mesh cloche to allow him to select one. “Mrs. Pazzano made these. They’re going like hotcakes – literally. She is such a wonderful cook.”

“Well, if you don’t mind,” Joe’s hand reached out towards the proffered plate.

“Bleuuch!”

All eyes turned to an embarrassed-looking, but pale, Mrs. Bateman. “Are you alright?” a shocked Amy bustled over trying to side-step the steaming pile on the grass. 

“I’ve been feeling unwell for a while,” croaked Mrs. Bateman. “Oh, I’m so embarrassed!”

Amy gave a smile of sympathy. “Nobody saw,” she lied, watching Joe Morin gingerly replace the muffin, his appetite departing with the speed of a robber’s dog. 

“Let’s get you into the tent,” Amy suggested, gently. “Could you watch the takings for me for a moment, sheriff?”

“Sure will, Mrs. Oliphant.”

“Oh, and Deputy Morin?” Amy called over her shoulder, “please take a muffin. Just tell me what you want and I’ll pay for it. It’d be my pleasure.”

“Maybe another time, ma’am,” Joe replied with a grimace, looking at the speckled, steaming pile on the grass. “I’ve kinda taken against blueberries all of a sudden.”

 

Tricia grabbed an apron from the tea tent. “David, I’ve got Mrs. Patterson, Mrs. Pazzano and the Misses Thompson all ready to help. The casualties are all in the tea tent and the boys group have fashioned some palliasses for them. They’re emptying the bowls and bringing water too.”

David frowned. “This place is turning into a field hospital. I’ve never seen so many people fall ill at once. They’re dropping like flies.” He frowned. “Where’s Amy? I thought she was helping?”

“She’s gone down with it too,” Tricia frowned. “Have you ever seen anything like this? What can cause this?”

David shook his head. “I’ve read about diseases raging through hospitals and unsanitary neighbourhoods, but nothing like this. Not so suddenly. All I can think of is contaminated water. There are as many men affected as there are women, but the children worry me the most.”

Tricia fixed her husband with worried eyes. “What can we do, David?” 

“A man called O’Shaughnessy did some pioneering work in rehydration salts in Britain during a cholera epidemic. Try to get fluid down them until I get back from the pharmacy. I think I can replicate them.”

“Will that help? Mrs. Jackson is very weak. She’s too old to sustain this for long.”

“It’s all I’ve got, Tricia.” David gave his ever-capable wife a reassuring smile. “I’ll be as quick as I can.”

 

It was a deflated, subdued party who rode back to the Double J. Everyone had been agreed that neither Beth nor J.J. could risk infection and they had to return home.

“You promised me fireworks,” J.J. protested through a petted lip.

Belle turned to confirm the change of plans to her son yet again. “They’ve been cancelled. They’ll have them another night.” 

“But it’s the 4th of July,” pouted J.J. “We always have fireworks on the 4th of July.”

Beth snuggled up to her husband on the mattress which had been placed on the flatbed of the wagon to make the journey more comfortable for the passengers travelling as freight. “Too many people were ill. The mayor said we’d have fireworks at thanksgiving instead.”

“S’not fair,” J.J muttered.

“You’re right, it’s not fair.” Jed’s blue eyes glittered through the moonlight at the boy. “But I guess we’ve got a lot to look forward to. Thanksgivin’ should be real good.”

“I guess...” the child sounded unconvinced, but the prospect of delayed gratification was clearly better than no gratification at all. 

“Yeah,” Jesse smiled at his son. “This way we’ve had a lovely day and you still get to see the fireworks another time.”

“You can’t have your cake and eat it too,” Belle added.

“It’s a cake.” J.J. frowned, the black and white logic of childhood taking hold. “What else are you gonna do with it? It’ll only go mouldy.” 

“Don’t be cheeky,” his mother retorted, turning back to her husband who was trying hard to suppress a smile. 

J.J. folded his arms and settled down next to Heyes.

“Amy got ill again,” he murmured.

“Yeah, and Randa too this time. David thinks there’s something in the water,” Jed frowned and glanced at his wife. “and you drank the tea.”

Beth nodded. “Yes, but I’m fine, and I shared a pot with Amy, so we know it’s not that because I’m fine. Besides, you had coffee. That’s made with water.”

“David says it was boiled, so it should be fine,” Heyes replied absently. “It can’t be that. David’s questioning everyone about what they ate or drunk, but there’s no pattern so far. He told me he’s using the same methodology as a doctor in London who traced a case like this back to one public pump.”

“We don’t have a public pump in Brookswood,” Belle mused, “but if anyone can find out what’s going on it’s David; he’s a very clever man, and people rallied quite quickly after they’d ejected whatever made them sick. Whatever he gave them helped tremendously.” 

“Yeah,” Heyes rested his head back against the wagon, “but something’s going on. That’s for sure.” 

 

Jed felt her before he heard her - the hard, taught knot of pain in the bed beside him. His eyes flickered open as he wrapped a strong protective arm around his Beth, but as he pulled her to him she groaned lightly. “Honey? What’s wrong?” He sat bolt upright, suddenly shocked by the dampness of her nightdress. She was drenched in sweat. “Beth! Are you ill?”

“My stomach,” she moaned. “The pain’s quite bad.”

The Kid felt the chill of fear strangle his heart. “The baby?” 

Beth gripped at her stomach and let out a cry as another cramp shot through her. 

“Let me light a candle,” the Kid murmured in his calmest, forced voice, belying the anxiety and helplessness spiralling in his belly. The golden aura cast it’s warmth over the emotional scene as the worried man carried the flickering flame over to his wife. “Do I need to get your mother, darlin’?”

Jed pulled the bed-covers back to get a better look at her, sucking in a breath of horror at the sight before him. The snowy-white bed linen was splattered in the blood oozing through her milky nightdress.

“Oh, my God,” Beth exclaimed raising her blood-soaked hands to examine them. “No!” her breath started to come in great pants of despair. “Not my baby. Jed, our baby.”

Tears pricked at his blue eyes as he backed off towards the door. “I’ll be right back, I promise. I’m gonna get Belle and the doctor.” He watched the woman he loved clinch herself into a ball, gasping as another shard of pain shot through her slim body. His nails dug into his palms and he turned on his heel and ran out onto the landing. “Belle! Belle! For the love of God, please come quick.”

Beth dropped her head and cried, but her tears were not cleansing. It was the burning, caustic, agonizing lament of the death of hope and of the loss of promise. Emptiness crowded in to fill the vacuum with a soul-corroding blackness. There was no future at that moment; all her emotions were fixed on the life-force ebbing from her loins until punctuated by stabbing, wounding paroxysms. The child was lost, and she knew it.

“Beth?” Belle bustled in and laid a calming hand on her daughter’s shoulder, silently biting her lip. “Lie down, my love. Let me see.” She turned to her husband and son-in-law who fluttered uselessly in the doorway. “Boil water. Lots of it, and bring me towels. Jed, you need to go get David.”

The Kid nodded, staring down at Beth. “Is she going to be alright?” 

Belle’s eyes widened, staring at Jed with the determination of a mother protecting her child. “Yes. Get the doctor. Do it, now.”

Jed turned, running straight into a sleepy-looking Heyes who suddenly appeared, fastening his trousers.  
“Kid?” Heyes fixed his cousin with worried dark eyes. “What’s going on?”

“Beth,” the reply was a husky whisper. “She’s bleedin’ real bad.”

Heyes’ brow creased. “Bleeding?”

“The baby, Heyes. I think it’s the baby.”

Heyes’ jaw dropped open. “No, aw, Kid.” He shook his head helplessly. “It can’t be. Not already.”

“Our baby...” The blue eyes glittered with tears. “I need to go get David.”

Heyes pulled his shoulders back with determination. “I’ll go. You stay with her.”

Jed shook his head. “Belle said I had to. I’ve gotta do somethin’.” He heaved a huge sigh and dropped his head. “I don’t know what to do.”

The shreds of leadership entwined and strengthened in Heyes’ psyche. “I’ll go. I was always a faster rider than you. Beth needs you.” He groped around for something useful for his cousin to do. “If Beth’s been bleeding she’ll need clean bedding and nightclothes. Belle will need lots of water drawn from the well, and J.J. is already stirring, he’ll need to be kept busy or he’ll be frightened. There’s plenty for you to do.” Heyes headed for the stairs, calling over his shoulder. “I’ve seen how a good doctor works nowadays. When you think you’ve boiled enough water, boil more; it’ll never be enough. I’ll be as fast as I can.”

 

Heyes battered his way through the blackness, trusting Karma to take him where they needed to be. She had seemed to pick up on the urgency from the moment her human had strode into the stables with a lantern swinging with haste. She had stood patiently while she was quickly tacked up and led outside. 

The way he had pulled himself on her back confirmed her misgivings and she gave it her all as she took off at high speed. Her hooves pounded through the night, accompanying the music of the snorting nostrils and rattling bridle. Her human needed her and his gripping legs told her he would keep his seat no matter where she took him. Karma was not about to let him down. 

 

Heyes bounded up the steps of the Gibson house and rattled on the door. He knew Nathaniel would be asleep but this was not a time to be delicate, besides the adrenaline forging through his system meant he couldn’t have been circumspect if he tried.

A pale, wan-looking Tricia pulled open the door and leaned wearily against it. She brushed a few stray hairs away from her eyes as she blinked against the oil lamp in her hand. “Hannibal? Do you know what time it is?”

“David. We need him, Tricia, real urgently.”

Tricia frowned. “He’s very tired, Hannibal. A lot of people were sick today. He’s only just got to bed.”

“Beth’s bleeding.” Heyes started to call down the hallway. “David, Beth needs you, right now!”

“I hear you,” a dishevelled David appeared in the hallway, pushing his arm into a sleeve. “Beth? What on earth is going on in this town? What’s wrong, did she start vomiting too?”

“No. She’s been fine, but she woke and...” Heyes pulled off his hat and ran a hand distractedly through his hair. “You’ve gotta come.”

“Go, David.” Tricia reached up and dropped a kiss on her husband’s cheek. “I’ll look after them.”

“Them?” asked Heyes.

Tricia blinked the tiredness from her eyes. “Randa and Amy got sick too. Amy’s a bit better but Randa’s was worse. She’s sleeping now.”

“No!” Heyes rubbed his face, casting his eyes skywards like a prayer. “No more,” he groaned. “How much can anyone take?” He pulled himself together. 

“C’mon, Doc. First things first, a woman is bleeding. She needs you. Give Randa my love, Tricia. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”   
Heyes turned and followed David down the steps. “David, wait!”

“I don't have time Hannibal!” David threw over his shoulder.

“I know,” Heyes yelled after him. “Take Karma. She's faster than Rudy and she's right here and ready to go.”

David stopped in his tracks and turned. “Are you sure she's not too tired? She just ran all the way in here.”

“That's nothing to her David.” Heyes assured him. “Take her. I'll bring Rudy.”

“Yeah, alright.”

David jogged back to meet Heyes beside the big mare. Karma was tense, sensing the anxiety in the air. She blew and stamped nervously as David hitched his medical bag over the saddle horn and pulled himself up onto the mare's back. Heyes untied the reins and handed them up to the doctor. He gave Karma a reassuring pat and whispered an entreaty in her ear. Karma snorted again and roughly nudged her human. She wanted to be off—she knew it was an emergency and she wanted to run.

“Go, David!”

David gave a curt nod, turned the mare's head and didn't even have to touch her flanks. She dug in her heels and power-housed into her top speed, spraying Heyes with a shower of dirt and pebbles. They disappeared into the night like a ghost in the wind and even the ever diminishing sound of her hoof beats was gone before Heyes had a chance to draw breath.

He turned and glanced back up at the house. Tricia still stood on the porch, the lantern in her hand and even Heyes could see the worried lines on her face. 

He felt like he should apologize, but he wasn't sure for what.

“It's alright Hannibal,” Tricia assured him. “You get on back to the ranch. Eric is quite used to being roused in the middle of the night to get Rudy ready for emergencies...” Her voice caught in her throat as a sob tried to escape and a hand came up to her mouth. “You get back and help out. I pray to God Beth will be alright.”

Heyes simply nodded and made his way over to the livery stable.

 

Forty minutes later Heyes loped Rudy into the yard of the Double J. The eastern sky was just beginning to lighten with the coming dawn and there was an early morning chill to the air that promised to dissipate and turn hot before too many more hours had passed.

Heyes trotted Rudy over to the first barn and was in the process of dismounting when he heard a familiar nicker and saw the dark shape of his mare coming to greet him. Obviously David had been in such a hurry he had simply dismounted and run into the house, leaving the mare to fend for herself.

Heyes took up her reins and frowned slightly when he noticed that Karma was shivering. The sweat she had built up from the round trip gallop was still wet on her coat, but the early morning temperatures had turned the hot dampness to chill and she was feeling the cold. Heyes tried not to be mad; there were other priorities here today and he could hardly have expected anyone in the house to think about the welfare of the horse. If Sam had been here she would have been seen to, but as it was...

Heyes opened the door to the barn and was instantly met by numerous nickers from the occupants, hopeful of an early breakfast. He stepped up to where he knew the lantern was hung, and feeling around for the matches, he found them and struck one up to bring light into the still dark interior. He led the two horses inside and putting Karma back into her own stall, he put Rudy into the spare one and proceeded to strip the tack off both of them.

He instantly threw a blanket over Rudy but took a few minutes to give Karma a rub down in order to help bring her body temperature up again. He managed to settle her a little bit but then quickly threw another blanket over her as well, to help quell the shivering. He went and grabbed two flakes of hay and threw them into the newly occupied stalls and stood for a moment with his arms resting on the top of Karma's stall door just to make sure that she would eat and then start to warm up. There was no problem with the big mare tucking in to her early snack and within a few minutes she had stopped shivering, gave herself a shake and with a relaxed snort went back to munching her hay. Heyes smiled and turned to find himself being intensely scrutinized by the other horses in the barn who were now all expecting an early morning snack as well. You can't just feed a couple of horses in the barn without feeding the whole lot. 

Heyes gave a resigned sigh and returning to the hay loft, grabbed enough hay to share amongst the residents, gave one more quick check on the two new comers and picking up the lantern made his way out to the front alcove. He could tell from the light coming in through the open barn door that dawn was upon them so he blew out the light and set the lantern back on it's hook before exiting the barn and closing the door behind him.

He stopped then, hands on hips and stared at the ranch house. He just stood there for a moment, biting his lower lip and feeling the anxiety creeping into his chest. He didn't want to go in there and face this type of ordeal again but he knew he had to. David was a good doctor, the best Heyes had ever known, but even he couldn't save everyone. If the worse case scenario has come to pass then Jed was going to need support, even if it was just the silent kind of support, the kind of just being there.

Heyes sighed deeply, the anxiety increasing along with the remembered pain of a child lost. Heyes didn't know if it would feel the same for Kid. Becky had already been a living, breathing little human being with a personality and a presence all her own. For Beth and Jed it would be a loss of the promise; the sudden denial of what could have been—what should have been. And if that is what has happened then, yeah; it'll be hard and Heyes was ashamed to admit that he was scared. He just didn't want to go through this again.

Finally, as though the light shining out from the main floor had grabbed hold of him and was forcing him to walk the distance, Heyes put one foot in front of the other and made his way over to face the demons. He came up the steps and with his heart in his throat he pushed open the front door and stepped into the brightly lit interior. He closed the door behind him and leaned back against it, looking at the two men setting at the dinning table, coffee in their cups going cold in front of them. The expressions on their faces told it all and Heyes' heart broke for real. But he still needed to know for sure though the question had to fight it's way through the fear to finally get strangled out in a barely audible whisper. 

“Beth?” he asked. “Is she...?”

“I gave her a sedative. She lost a lot of blood but she'll be alright,” David assured him. “Jed and Belle are in there with her for now.”

Heyes nodded, still leaning against the door. “The baby...?”

David and Jesse exchanged a quick look, then David shook his head.

“No.”

Heyes nodded again and pushing himself off the door he approached the table and sat down.

“You want a coffee Han?” Jesse asked him.

“No.”

 Silence settled over the table for a spell before David cleared his throat and sighed a deep, tired sigh. “Well, all we can do for now is let Beth rest. If she starts to bleed again Jesse, let me know right away. In the mean time she's to stay in bed for at least three days. Tell Belle to get as much food into her as she'll take even if it's just meaty broth. She needs to build her strength back up.”  
“I'll let Belle know,” Jesse assured him. “Though I expect she already knows what to do.”

“Yeah,” David agreed. “I suspect she does. Well...” the doctor pushed himself away from the table and stood up, “I should be getting back. Tricia will be worried and I really need to get some sleep before I tackle the day I know I'm going to have.”

“Yeah alright, David,” Jesse told him as everyone stood up. “Thanks for getting out here so quickly.”

“You have Han's mare to thank for that,” David exclaimed. “It's a good thing she knew where to put her feet because what with the darkness of the night and the wind in my eyes I couldn't see a thing!”

Heyes smiled softly. “Yeah, she's pretty special alright. I'll come out to the barn with you, David. I took Rudy's tack off and gave him some hay, but he should be about finished that now.” 

David nodded agreement, sensing that Hannibal still needed to talk and the two men made their way back out to the barn.

“How's Jed taking this?” Heyes finally asked as David busied himself with saddling Rudy.

“He's pretty upset about it,” David informed him. “Once he knew that Beth was going to be alright, he relaxed a little, but this is still a disappointment for both of them.”

“Yeah.”

“Just be there for him, Hannibal,” David suggested. “He may not want to talk, but if he does you're the one he's most likely to turn to. He and Belle are close, I know, but...”

“Yeah.” Heyes hesitated, feeling ill at ease.

David had finished tacking up Rudy and he turned to the other man, sensing his discomfort. “Are you alright with this?” David asked him. “I know these times can be difficult. Perhaps you'd rather that he just talk with Belle about it.”

“No,” Heyes was quick to deny that. “No, it's fine, David.”

“Alright.” David nodded though he still felt a tension there. “Just take things slowly. Now I better get back home before I fall asleep right here in the barn.” 

“Are you okay to ride home?” Heyes asked him, suddenly concerned for his friend’s safety.

“Oh yes,” David assured him as he led his horse out of the barn and into the early morning light. “You know Rudy, he'll look after me. I'll just hang onto the horn and he'll take me straight home.” The doctor mounted up and sent a bleary eyed look down to the other man. “I'll try and get out again later today but don't hesitate to come get me if things worsen.”

“Yeah, alright,” Heyes assured him, then hesitated, afraid to ask the next question, but David was about to leave so it was now or never.  “Do you think that maybe this was more than just happenstance?” he asked. “Do you think maybe it was deliberate?”

David stopped what he was doing and thought about it for a moment before turning and looking down at Heyes. “Hannibal, we almost never know what causes miscarriages. Her mother lost a baby too, so it may be something in the blood; you know, something wrong with the baby? It can be nature’s way of solving the problem and getting rid of the baby before it gets too big and becomes a danger to the mother. Belle also went on to have a fine healthy family. There’s no reason to think that Beth will be any different.”

Heyes nodded. “I just wondered with all those folks getting sick so fast. It seemed like poison.”

“Yes, it can seem like that, but infection is a kind of poison to the body.”

“David, Tricia told me that Randa was ill. How is she?”

“She’s resting. I think she’s past the worst.”

Heyes paused, unsure how to couch his next question. “Amy is ill again too.”

“Yes, Hannibal.”

“I know this might sound stupid but doesn’t that seem like a bit of a coincidence. First the accident, then the illness – and let’s be honest – even you suspected poisoning then, but nobody saved any vomit. Now this. It might be a long shot, but everyone was eating and drinking much the same stuff at the celebration. It could be another way to get her.”

David gave a heavy sigh. “You mean the best way to hide a poisoning is in amongst a whole lot of other poisonings? The same thought crossed my mind. That’s why I kept samples this time, but I didn’t have time to test them yet, what with all this. I’ll do it after I’ve had some sleep.”

“It’s probably nothing, but it’s just one thing after another with her.”

“Yeah, it kinda is. Whatever it is, I’ll get to the bottom of it.”  David gave Heyes a tired smile and turning Rudy's head towards the road they made their way homeward just as the new day was really taking hold.

Heyes stood and watched him go, then with a sigh turned towards the ranch house again.

 

Inside the house, Jesse was in the kitchen doing his bit to help out on this disappointing day. He had another pot of coffee on the go and was getting the oatmeal cooking just in case anyone was in the mood to eat anything. He kind of doubted it but it gave him something to do as well. Heyes felt like the fifth wheel and just kinda hung around in the living area wondering if there was anything he could do to help, anywhere.

The upstairs bedroom door opened and was soon followed by Belle coming down the stairs with an armful of soiled linen. Heyes was going to ask her how Beth was doing when he spotted the blood that was soaked into the white sheets and his own complexion suddenly became just as paled as the bed clothes.

Belle was too distracted to notice the change in her friend and she hurried passed him in order to deposit the soiled linen out the back where Jesse could later burn it. 

Heyes felt himself go clammy and a buzzing began to grow inside his head. A shaky hand was raised to his forehead and he quickly looked around for a place to sit before he actually feinted and ended up on the floor. He got himself over to the family room and with a woozy head and gasping breath he sat down in the old comfortable rocker and tried to stop the room from spinning.

A trembling hand came to his forehead again and he couldn't believe how cold and clammy his skin was to his touch. This was silly; he'd seen blood before, and plenty of it! He took deep breaths and willed himself to calm down, willed his heart to stop pounding and his brow to stop sweating. He jumped slightly, startled as Mouse put in an appearance and came to her human's lap in the hopes of bringing comfort with her. 

Heyes sighed and petted her, stroking her sleek summer coat and allowing her to rub her whiskers against his nose. He even managed a sad smile. He sighed and leaned back in the chair, allowing it to rock gently back and forth as he closed his eyes and tried to relax. 

Blood. Blood soaking into soft, white linen and lace. People screaming, a child crying for it's mother. Abi's white, shocked face, her eyes hard and dead as she aimed the gun at her baby's murderer and pulled the trigger.

Her baby. His baby. Their daughter. Blood was everywhere; who would have thought that such a tiny body could hold so much? But the body wasn't holding it any longer; it seeped out, spreading inside the pram and turning everything into a sickening dark red mess. Heyes' mind began to skip. He was just beginning to allow himself to believe that he was actually a father and now his brain just wouldn't accept the fact that suddenly he wasn't anymore. 

He went into shock. The law arriving to assess the scene. The tiny, little body being examined causing Heyes to feel a certain amount of paternal protectiveness. He remembered protesting, trying to pick up the child's body in his arms, wanting to cuddle her, comfort her, bring her back to life. But the constable wouldn't let him. Heyes had become angry, again another example of the law not allowing Hannibal Heyes to do what he wanted to do.

He had shouted obscenities at them. Why couldn't they all just go away and leave him and his family alone? They had been kind but firm; the distressed father trying to protect his own. Then Abi being arrested for murder and the whole world was going crazy and his mind was spinning and all he could see was blood.  
Then his mind started to register something else; a pain in his left thumb and slowly he came back to himself. He was sitting in the rocking chair in the family room and Mouse was biting into his digit.

He sucked his teeth and instantly released her. His gentle stroking had turned into a tight clutching, his fingers digging into the cat's soft fur and his one hand doing a good job of throttling the animal's throat. Mouse jumped down to the floor, coughing and flicking her tail indignantly. Her first thought was to run away and lick her wounded pride in hiding somewhere, but something caused her to look back at her human and ask the question.

Heyes sighed deeply, sucking on his punctured thumb. He looked down at the cat and sending her an apology he patted his lap and invited her to rejoin him. She thought about the wisdom of this for a moment, then with a quiet 'murr' she jumped back up and settled in against him. She would forgive him this one time since obviously there was trouble in the house. 

“Joshua, are you alright?”

Heyes jumped and Mouse dug in her claws just in case things got rough again.

“Oh, Belle,” Heyes sighed. “Sorry, I didn't hear you.”

Belle stepped forward with worry written all over her face. She put a warm hand on Heyes' forehead and stepping in closer, both hands came around to cup his cheeks. She looked directly into his eyes.

“You're all clammy,” she observed. “Don't tell me you're getting sick now too.”

“No. No, I'm fine,” Heyes assured her and he smiled a little sheepishly. “It's just...memories.”

Belle pulled over one of the chairs and sat down facing her friend. She took one of his hands in hers and smiled sadly at him. Mouse decided it was getting a little too crowded for her and hopping down to the floor, she trotted off to see what was for breakfast.

“Yes,” she agreed quietly. “They do come up unbidden, don't they?”

Heyes gave a small, slightly bitter laugh. “Yes.” 

They sat quietly, holding each other's hands and Heyes gave a sigh and nodded up towards the second floor. “How are they?”

“Beth has finally fallen asleep, thank goodness,” Belle informed him. “Jed?” she shrugged. “He's in a daze. He won't leave her side.”

“Wait until he smells breakfast... he'll be down fast enough,” then he cringed, closing his eyes with instant regret. “Ohhh, I didn't mean that. That was a terrible thing to say.”

Belle chuckled a little and patted his hand. “Don't worry about it,” she assured him. “You're just trying to find a way to deal with all this yourself. The way you two banter back and forth and tease one another I'm not surprised that you fell back onto that strategy. It's where you're comfortable. This is a difficult time for all of us. I know the memories that this must be stirring up for you; it is for us as well and that's always hard to deal with.”

Heyes nodded. “Yes. Kid told me that you and Jesse ...oh, there I go again. I'm sorry I shouldn't have brought that up.”

“You didn't bring it up,” Belle assured him. “I did.”

Heyes smiled. “Yes, I guess you did at that.”

“It was very difficult,” Belle told him. “having my first pregnancy fail and then losing our first son like that. But we got through it and just look at the beautiful family we do have. It'll take some time for Beth to get over this, but she will. She'll never forget it, but she'll move on and I'm sure that she and Jed will have other children and the heartache of losing this one will lessen.”

“What if they can't?” Heyes asked her. “What if what happened to Sam and Maribelle happens again?”

“Then we'll deal with it if and when it does happen,” Belle stated matter-of-factly, “just as Sam and Maribelle learned to deal with it. And I'd say they took full advantage of a very worthwhile solution to their problem, didn't they?”

Heyes laughed and nodded. “Yes!” he agreed. “I suppose they did. Still...”

“I know.” Belle patted his hand again as she stood up. “There's nothing like having your own.”

“Yeah.”

Belle leaned in and squeezed his shoulder. “I'll let you in on a little secret,” she whispered, “when you adopt a child, that child becomes your own.”

She gave him a little pat on the back and headed off to the kitchen to see what Jesse was managing to put together for breakfast. Heyes smiled after her and nodded to himself. Yeah; she was probably right about that.

 

Mid morning found Heyes and Sam in the first barn just finishing up the stalls when Jed quietly walked in amongst them. Sam was instantly uncomfortable, not knowing what he should say or do. Having been through it himself he knew what the older man was experiencing, but he also knew how useless words of platitude would be, coming from him.

“Oh,” Sam looked from one man to the other. “Ah, I'll just go get started on the stalls in the other barn.”

“Yeah, okay,” Heyes nodded but his eyes never left his partner's face.

“I'll see ya' later...” but it didn't seem right to just walk away without some form of acknowledgement, so he added... “I'm sorry, Mr....ah....Jed. Sorry.”

“Yeah,” Jed nodded but kept his eyes on the ground.

Sam made his hasty retreat and Jed continued on into the barn. He sat down on a hay bale and with a heavy sigh ran his hands through his curls and then rubbed his eyes.

“Aww Heyes...” but he couldn't carry on and just shook his head and continued to stare at the ground.

“Yeah, I know Kid,” Heyes responded, and putting down his pitch fork he joined his partner by sitting on another bale of hay. “How's Beth?”

“Still sleepin'.”

Heyes nodded. “How is she otherwise?”

“Ahh, David said she should be alright,” Jed mumbled. “Just needs to get her strength back.”

“Oh. Okay. That's good.”

“Yeah.”

A beat of silence as Heyes watched his cousin and his cousin watched the ground.

“How are you doing?”

Jed took a deep shuddering breath and finally looked up to meet his partner's eyes.

“Aww Heyes—I've never been so scared in my life!” Then his shoulders slumped and he shook his head. “No, maybe that's not true. You scared the bejesus outa me too when you told me you were gonna...”

Then it was Heyes' turn to slump and study the ground, guilt over his previous behaviour hitting him full on—again. “Yeah...I...”

“It's that same damn feeling of being totally helpless,” Jed continued on, “knowing that I was this close to losing someone I loved and there wasn't a damned thing I could do to stop it.”

Heyes swallowed down guilty stress wishing he could take back so much from that period in his life. And knowing that he had caused his closest friend that much pain was the bitterest pill of all. 

Fortunately for Heyes, now that Jed had started talking, he wasn't about to stop.

“It's not right, Heyes,” he continued with the beginnings of anger starting up. “I'm the husband. I'm suppose to be able to take care of my wife. And there I was, totally helpless. I had no idea what to do. I should have been able to save our child, I should have been able!”

“Aw, Kid, no. C'mon,” Heyes tried to placate the man. “You can't control everything. And certainly not that. Even David couldn't save it. You know yourself that even David doesn't have total control over who lives and who...nobody does.”

“But she's my wife,” Jed snapped back. “When I married her I promised I would look after her—I would keep her safe. Then the first time she's in trouble and I didn't know what to do!”

“Sure ya' did,” Heyes pointed out. “You got Belle. Then you did what you needed to do in order to help those that did know what to do. You got nothing to beat yourself up about. You did everything you were suppose to do.”

“Except save our child,” Jed mumbled to the ground.

Heyes sighed. “No, you couldn't save your child,” he agreed, “but you can be there for your wife. She's gonna need ya' now Kid. She's gonna need her husband to help her through this. You gotta step up and be strong for her.”

Jed sat quietly, rocking slightly back and forth, his arms wrapped around himself as though he were in pain. 'Well, I suppose he is,' Heyes thought and he waited, watching.

“How did ya' do it, Heyes?” Jed finally beseeched him. “How did you handle the pain? Rebecca was a living, breathing child—a real little person.” He shook his head as he continued to rock himself. “What we had wasn't real yet; it was just a promise, an expectation of life to come and now it's been taken from us and it's tearing me apart. I wanted this so badly. We both did.”

“I know,” Heyes answered quietly. “I know you wanted it Jed. And what you had, no matter how briefly, was real. And you have every right to grieve that loss.”

“Jeez, I remember when this happened to Sam and Maribelle,” Jed continued. “I felt bad for them, I really did, especially when it happened the second time and then David told them they couldn't have children at all...oh man! I felt bad for them but I never realized how much it hurts—I just never realized! Aww Heyes, what if we can't? We both want children so badly, what if...?”

Heyes bit his lower lip, thinking about having this exact same conversation with Belle earlier that morning.

“There's no reason to think that at this point.” Heyes tried to be reassuring. “You know yourself that Jesse and Belle lost their first pregnancy, you know it's quite common just from the conversations we've had with David. Goodness knows I had enough talks about that with Doc Morin. Not that I expected to be dealing with that in the prison, mind you—but just out of wanting to know, I read up on that a bit. It just happens, Kid. Often there is no reason to explain it, it just happens sometimes. It doesn't mean you can't move on from this and have more children. It doesn't mean that at all.”

“I donno, Heyes,” Jed shook his head and his jaw tightened with his distress. Heyes knew something was coming. “It just seems to me that nothin' has gone right for us since we decided to go straight.”

“Oh, now that's not...”

“No, I mean it!” Jed abruptly cut him off. “I mean, just look at these last ten years. We never had any money, finding work was a joke and even when we did find work, half the time we didn't get paid! If it wasn't for your skill at the poker table we probably would have starved to death—or gone back to thievin'. And you still ended up goin' to prison!”

“Yeah,” Heyes nodded. “I know it was a rough road, Kid, for both of us. But we made it. I mean, look at us now...”

“Yeah, still broke!” Jed was determined to see the down side. “What the hell was I thinkin'; gettin' married and startin' a family? I can't even afford to support my own wife. Ya' know I'm thinkin' maybe this is God's way of tellin' me I was an idiot to think that I deserved this. That I'm just a...”

“No!” It was Heyes' turn to do the cutting off. “Don't you dare even think that! You're on the right track, Kid and there's nothin' wrong with you. Jeez, Kenny keeps telling me that you're doing so well, that you've got the right of it. He keeps holding you up as an example of what I should be aiming for.”

Jed snorted derogatorily.

“No!” Heyes waved the Kid's opinion away. “He's right. The more I realize the direction I should be going in, the main thing I see down that path is you already ahead of me. You're doing alright, Kid. We're doing alright. I know this has been a blow but you got friends and family around ya'. You'll get through this, both of ya' will.”

Jed sat and stared at the floor again, his hands clasped in front of him. Well, at least he wasn't hugging himself anymore.

“Sounds like what I kept on sayin' to you.” 

Heyes grinned. “And you were right. You just needed reminding, that's all.” 

Big sigh. “I donno, Heyes. I can't even afford to buy my wife a house. We'd be continuing to live under Jesse's roof if he hadn't given us that parcel a' land and helping to pay for the building supplies.”

Now it was Heyes' turn to look dejected. “How do you think I feel?” he asked. “I’m still living under Jesse's roof. At least you're moving ahead, Kid; you're getting a home put together for your family. I'm still wallowing. If it wasn't for Jesse and Belle...they sure have been good to us.” 

“Yeah,” Jed agreed. “What did we do to deserve that, eh, Heyes?”

Heyes grinned. “I donno, but I sure don't want to go letting him down again,” he straightened up, taking in a deep sigh. “There's one thing I've finally come to realize—well, with the help of Kenny beating it into me—is that we can't keep on running away from our problems. Like I said; it's been pointed out to me that you've been standing your ground real solid and I'm the one who still takes flight at the first hint of trouble. I can't be doing that anymore so don't you go thinkin' that we should just pull up stakes and leave.   
"You're doing good, Kid—you're showing me the way, so don't you go gettin' all regretful on me! You love Beth and she sure does love you and that's not something to take lightly. It's like you said at your wedding; we always wanted a home. A real home with a real family and now we're got it and it's up to us to hold on to it and make it work. So don't you go talking about how we don't deserve it and God doesn't want us to have this. He's already given it to us. Life isn't always easy or fair—I suppose we both know that from first-hand experience, but we've got a real chance now, the best we've ever had.  
“I know right now you feel like you've been sucker punched and you're hurtin' and you're angry and I sure can understand that. But we're all here for ya', Kid, for you and Beth. You're never gonna forget this; there'll always be that little regret of a promise taken away but I have a feeling that you and Beth are gonna rally. You'll get passed this and carry on. You don't have a choice,” he grinned impishly. “Well—cause we aren't going to give you a choice. You'll see; everything's gonna be alright.”

“I suppose.” 

Silence settled between them again. Jed looked so sad.

“Have ya' had anything to eat today?”

“Aw, I can't eat, Heyes. I feel all wrung out.”

“Hmm,” Heyes nodded his understanding. “Well, I'm planning on riding in to town this afternoon to go see Randa. She's still down with that virus that's going around. You want to come, just go get away for a while?”

“No, Heyes,” Jed shook his head. “Thanks, but I think I'll go back and sit with Beth. I just wanted to talk with ya' a bit.”

“Yeah, okay,” Heyes sighed. “Maybe you can have some of Amy's chamomile tea. Help relax ya' a little bit.”

Jed smiled and Heyes felt his heart flip with relief. “Yeah, okay,” he agreed. “Surprisingly enough a cup of tea actually sounds like a good idea.” 

“Good.”

 

To Be Continued


	20. Home To Roost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The culprit is finally found out.  
> Jed and Beth face another difficult fact  
> Heyes says his goodbyes

Home to Roost.

   
By mid-afternoon, chores for the day were finally completed and Heyes wasted no time saddling up Karma and heading in to town.  He was relieved to get away from the ranch for a few hours, but anxious about what he was going to find at David's place.  Just the fact that Randa was ill caused his gut to tighten up in a knot—or had it been in a knot ever since the wee hours of that morning and just simply hadn't released yet?  So much was going on and there seemed to be more questions coming at them than answers.   
What in the world was Bamforth up to?  And now he and Elsie Dagnabbit are actually working together?  He gave himself a mental reprimand; he had to stop calling her that now that he knew how to pronounce her name.  She had a beautiful name even if the woman herself was obviously of a somewhat dubious nature.  Let's face it, if she's working with Bamforth and she knew how to pick locks then there's a lot more going on behind that pretty face than just—well another pretty face.   
 Heyes felt irritation add strength to the knot he already felt when he thought about Bamforth.  That had been embarrassing getting caught flat-footed like that.  Thank goodness he still carried lock picks with him or he and Jacobs would probably still be handcuffed to the bed—and then when they were finally found it would have made the front page in a matter of minutes!  Jed would never have let him live it down.  Yes—some things were best kept quiet.   
Heyes pulled Karma up in front of the doctor's residence and with some trepidation mounted the steps, and knocked quietly at the door.  He didn't hear anything for a moment and was about to knock again, a little louder when he heard the handle move and the door opened a crack.   
Heyes smiled quietly.  “Hello Amy,”  he greeted the rather pale looking woman.  “How are you?”  
“Oh, Hannibal.” Amy smiled and opened the door wider, inviting him to step in.  “Sorry, I'm the only one here right now so I'm just feeling a little cautious, but do come in.”  
Heyes took off his hat and stepped into the alcove.  “David and Tricia aren't here?”   
“No.  Tricia has gone to do some shopping and has taken Nathan with her,”  Amy explained.  “David is still out checking up on all the people who got ill.”  
“Oh, poor man,” Heyes commented with real feeling.  “Did he get any sleep last night?”  
Amy shook her head as she limped back into the kitchen and offered Heyes a cup of the ever-present tea kettle.  “I only made enough for me, but the kettle’s still on the boil and I can throw in another spoonful of tea.”  She lifted the octagonal tea caddy decorated with little branches standing out against the pewter coloured metal.  “Darjeeling.  It came in this box, isn’t it lovely?  I’ve decided to give it to Tricia as a thank you gift.”   
“I’m sure she’ll love it.”  Heyes nodded acceptance of the beverage as she prepared and poured them both a cup.  “A friend of mine, Silky by name, has a whole bunch of decorative doo dads like this.” He smiled as he admired the box. “Seeing that kind of reminds me of him.”  
Amy smiled in appreciation as she set the box aside. “I think David got a couple of hours after he came home from your place,”  she informed him as they both sat down.  “But he was up and gone again by ten this morning.”  She shrugged.  “I suppose it's like that sometimes when you're the town's doctor.  Tricia certainly seems to take it all in her stride.  I know he wants to go by the Double J. again before coming home just to check up on Beth.” She smiled again though she looked tired.  “He'll probably sleep for at least fourteen hours once he knows everyone is on the mend.”  Then she became serious again.  “How is Beth?”  
Heyes sipped his tea and shrugged.  “Sleeping.  That's all I can really tell you.  David gave her a sedative and thinks that she'll be alright once she regains her strength.”  
 Oh, good.” Amy breathed a sigh of relief, “such a shame; she and Jed were so happy, but I'm sure they'll be able to have others.”   
Heyes just nodded.  Even he was getting a little tired of that platitude.  It was an empty reassurance at best; just something people said when they couldn't think of anything else to say.  Jed and Beth won't know if they can have more children until they actually have them, and having other children still won't take away the pain of losing this one.  Heyes know that better than most.  Still, he knew that Amy was just being sympathetic and supportive the only way she knew how and he tried to take the sentiment at face value.   
“You still haven't answered my question,” Heyes pointed out and Amy raised an eyebrow at him.  “How are you?”  
She smiled again.  “Oh, I'm fine,” she assured him.  “I'd be home now, but I offered to stay on a while longer to help with Miranda.  She really did get the worst of it.”   
“Hmm,” Heyes nodded.  “Do you think David would mind if I went in to see her?”  
“I don't think so,” Amy told him.  “Why should he mind?”  
Heyes gave a sardonic little laugh.  “Just...take my word for it; he can get very protective sometimes.”   
“Well, since he's not here right now I don't see any reason why you can't go in to visit with her,” Amy told him conspiratorially.  “I won't tell if you won't.”  
“Okay,” Heyes agreed with a grin.  He took another sip of tea and pushed himself away from the table.  “I won't stay long.”  
“That's fine, Hannibal,”  Amy assured him.  “Perhaps she'd like a cup of tea.  It does seem to help settle her.”  
Heyes nodded and made his way over to the spare bedroom.  He knocked quietly on the door and then entered, closing it behind him.   
He stopped for a moment, just on the other side and stood gazing down at the woman he had come to care so much about.  The second cot was still set up, supposedly for Amy to sleep on and Heyes quietly stepped over to it and sat down.  Miranda appeared to be asleep and he didn't want to disturb her so he contented himself with simply watching her and trying to assess her condition.   
She appeared pale and hollow looking, as though she had suddenly lost 20 pounds, and there was a light glistening to her skin indicating a clamminess that Heyes knew was there without having to feel it.  David had obviously given her a sedative and something to help calm her stomach but she still looked very ill.   
Once again Heyes was fighting that fear that he was going to lose someone whom he cared deeply about.  He remembered back to their earlier conversation while out on their picnic and he had commented that pretending to not love her was going to be the best con he ever pulled.  Now though, he'd have to say that it had turned out to be the worst, because he just couldn't pull it off.  
He did love this woman.  Not the same way that he had loved Abi.  Miranda was a different kind of woman than Abi was so how could he love her the same way?  But love her he did, and now she was sick and he just didn't know if it was because of him or simply a very aggressive virus or bug that had hit the populace on July 4th and was simply affecting different people in different ways.   
Now more than ever he wanted this vendetta to be sorted out and put to rest.  Otherwise he was going to go mad always wondering if some illness or accident was because of that, or simply the natural course of things.  He wanted to get on with his life as best he could under his current circumstances and he was tired of constantly having to look over his shoulder.   
Maybe David had a point.  Perhaps none of this had anything to do with him and Jed.  Maybe the whole idea was just to get the suspicion out there so that the two ex-outlaws would do the job of ruining their own lives.  Maybe Jed and Beth were right; just grab the bull by the horns and go for it—vendetta be damned.  Stop trying to protect everyone, Hannibal!  He'd just finished telling Jed that he couldn't control everything; he couldn't keep Beth safe from life itself.  Maybe Heyes needed to listen to his own advice.    
Yeah, maybe.  
He tensed slightly as he heard the front door open and then David's voice coming through from the kitchen.   
“I see Karma tethered outside.  Is Hannibal here?”  
“Yes,” he heard Amy's voice answer.  “He wanted to see how Miranda is doing.  I didn't see the harm.”  
Silence followed that statement, then a quiet knock on the bedroom door followed by the door opening and David himself putting in an appearance.  Heyes straightened up with a sigh, not sure what kind of a reception he was going to get, but David simply smiled at him and came into the room.  
“Hello,” David greeted him quietly.  “She still sleeping?”  
“Yeah.  I didn't want to wake her.”  
David nodded and sitting down on the edge of the sick bed, he gently checked his patient's condition.  He cupped her face in his hands then touched her forehead and her throat then checked her pulse.  She moaned a little at the disturbance and shifted her position but she didn't wake up.  David smiled, but it was a tired and worried smile which gave Heyes no comfort.  
“I thought you said she was getting better.”  Heyes tried to keep the accusation out of his tone.  
“She was,”  David informed him, knowing that the edge he was hearing was just worry.  “But when I checked on her earlier this morning she had regressed again.  I don't know why.”  
“Are there any others who are getting worse?”  
“No.”  David shook his head.  “Even the more elderly victims are recovering and most are up and about.  I just don't understand why Randa isn't.”  He sighed and rubbed his tired eyes.  “I do have some samples that I can run tests on and I'll take a look at some case studies I have on hand.  I'll figure it out Hannibal, don't worry.”  
“You're not going to figure anything out if you don't get some sleep,” Heyes commented.  “Why don't you...?”  
“No,” David shook his head.  “Randa is getting worse; I don't have time to sleep.”  
The two men sat quietly for a moment, Heyes watching David and David watching Miranda, neither of them really knowing where to go from here.  
“How's Beth?”  Heyes finally asked.  
David took in a deep breath and looked over at his worried friend.  “She's still sleeping, but appears to be doing better.  At least she hasn't started to bleed again.  That's a blessing.  There’s no sign of infection and that’s all that can hold her back now.”  
“Yeah.”  
David yawned and rubbed his eyes.  
“Aw David, you should....”  
“No,” David cut him off.  “I have too much to do.  You'd best go home for now, Hannibal.  You can come back tomorrow if you want.  Hopefully she'll be better.”  
“Yeah, okay.”  
Heyes stepped out to the kitchen as Amy was busy brewing more tea.  She glanced over at him and couldn't help but feel some sympathy at the worried expression on his face.  
“Aw, Hannibal,” she said and came forward to give him a hug.  “She'll be alright.  You'll see.  David will fix this.”  
Heyes sighed and sank into her embrace, taking comfort from the contact of a friend.  “I hope you're right,” he whispered in her ear.  He pushed himself away from her and gave her a kiss on the cheek.  “I better get home—evening chores and all that, you know.”  Amy nodded.  “I'll come back to check on her tomorrow.  Will you be here?”  
“I intend to,” Amy assured him.  “For all the help that David and Trish—and Miranda have given me, I really want to help out now if I can.  Try not to worry, Hannibal, we'll get her through this.”  
Heyes nodded and left the house.  He went down the steps and patted Karma on the neck.  She leaned into him and rubbed her head against his chest.  
“You're a good girl, you know that?” Heyes murmured to her, and he cringed as she brought her head up and nuzzled him in the neck.  It tickled.  “Yeah, okay.  C'mon I need a drink.”  
He untied the reins and led the mare down the street towards the main street of town.  A quick beer sounded really good about now.  Just as he was tying Karma up to the hitching rail outside the saloon, Heyes looked up at a familiar voice calling to him.  
“Oh—sheriff,”  Heyes greeted him.  “What can I do for you today?”  
“I was hoping I'd see you sometime today,”  Jacobs admitted.  “I need to talk to you about something.”  
“Oh?  I was about to get a beer.  Join me?”  
“No thanks, Heyes, not while I'm on the clock.”  
“You ever not on the clock?”  Heyes asked with that impish smile that drove lawmen crazy.  
“Oh, I know.”  Jacobs waved it away.  “This'll just take a minute anyways.”  
“Oh.”  Heyes tried to look serious.  “Well what can I do for you, Sheriff?”

“It's about the other night...”  
“What other night?”  Heyes was in full swing.  
“The other night,”  Jacobs reiterated, looking irritated.  “You know, when...”  He looked around him and Heyes couldn't help but grin at his obvious attempt at covertness, but he made sure his poker face was in place when Jacobs turned back to meet his eye.  “...when we were handcuffed to the bed.”  
“Oh, that other night!”  Heyes exclaimed and Jacobs cringed.  “What about it, Sheriff?”  
 Jacobs gave up on the pretence and just let it out.  “I seem to recall you telling Bamforth that you were going to track him down—no matter what.”  
“Oh, yes.”  Heyes shuffled uncomfortably.  
“I certainly hope that you weren't serious about that, Heyes,”  the sheriff commented.  “You know darn well you're not at liberty to do something like that—right?”  
Heyes gave his most charming smile, dimples working overtime.  “I'd be at liberty if you went with me, Sheriff.”  
Jacobs sent him an incredulous look.  “And just where would we begin?  I've been to the livery, the train depot and the stage depot—there's been no one fitting their descriptions—either a couple or a man with a teenage boy making an effort to leave town.”  
“Then that would suggest that they're still in town, wouldn't it?”  Heyes asked, all serious now.  
“I've checked the hotel,”  Jacobs continued, “They’ve gone.  No sign of either of the Bamforths.  I think that ‘mother’ of his and Elsie Dagnabbit could be the same person.  She seems to have a knack with disguises, that woman.”    
“Daignault.  Elise Daignault.”  
 “Whatever!” Jacobs’ frustration rattled in his words.  “It's as if they've just disappeared into thin air!”  
Heyes sighed.  “Yeah, okay,” he was getting down to business now, joking aside.  “I'll go get my drink and see if I can hear anything.  It's amazing what people will discuss after a few beers.  If nothing comes up from that, I'll do some checking around town myself.”  
“As long as you don't leave the county, Heyes,” Jacobs warned him.  “I don't want to wake up tomorrow to hear that you're high-tailed it out of sight and sound.”  
 “No, I won't Sheriff,”  Heyes assured him, and then the impish smile put in an appearance again.  “I'll wake you up before I do that.”  
   
 Jed tiptoed into the upstairs bedroom that he shared with his wife.  He had the lamp turned down to its lowest level so as not to disturb Beth but still give him enough light to be able to undress and get settled in for the night.  
Beth had slept most of the day, had been willing to take some broth at noon, and then some stew with bread at dinner but other than that, had shown no interest in leaving her bed or do anything other than sleep.  David had not been concerned about this; it was what he had prescribed anyways.  Bed rest with food and water was the best thing for her—just give her time.  
Jed pulled the blanket back and carefully crawled into bed and cuddled in beside his wife.  Beth was lying on her side with her back to him and he snuggled in and wrapped his arms around her.  He heard a quiet sob some from her and she rolled over to face him, enveloping herself in his arms.  
“Hey, darlin',”  Jed whispered.  “Wasn't sure if you were awake or not.”  
Beth clung to him, her sobs coming now in quick succession.  Jed felt his heart break all over again, hearing his wife in such distress.  He tightened his arms around her and pulled her in close.  
“Shhh...” he tried to sooth her, gently stroking her hair.  “It's alright...”  
“I'm sorry...”  she finally gasped.  “I'm so sorry...”  
“Ah no, darlin'; you got nothin' to be sorry about.”  
“But you wanted children so much,” she sobbed, “and I lost it.  I couldn't even hold onto our baby for three months, I can't give you children—you must hate me!”  
“Ohh, sweetheart—no.”  Jed would have laughed if his heart wasn't still breaking.  “I love you.  This don't change nothin'.  Give it time.  When you're ready we'll try again.  I love you more than anything else—more than I ever would have thought possible.  That's not going to change.”  
“But what if...what if I can't...?”  
“Then we'll find an alternative,” Jed assured her.  “In the mean time, I don't want ya' worryin' about it.  Your own folks went through this but then went on to have you and Bridget, and then J.J.. We've got time sweetheart.  We've got lots of time.”  
“You're not going to leave me?”  
“No, of course not!” Jed assured her and he kissed her on the forehead.  “I'm not gonna leave you.  I know when I've got it good.  Besides—your Pa would hunt me down with a shotgun if I walked out on ya' now.”  Jed grinned as he felt rather than heard Beth giggle.  “There ya' go,” he said.  “Remember what your Pa said at our wedding?”  
“What?”  
“That the future lies before us and we'll do fine as long as we face it together.”  
 “Oh yeah.”  
“Your Papa's a wise man.”  
“Yeah.”  
   
“Randa’s seeing David right now.  She’s a little better this morning but she had another bad night.  Amy’s asleep in Nathaniel’s room.  She sat up for a good part of the night with Randa.”  Heyes followed Tricia into the kitchen where she slumped into a seat.  “How’s Beth?”  
“She’s stable.  She’s been sleeping a lot.”  
Tricia nodded.  “That’ll be the drugs.  It’s for the best.  Lots of rest will build her strength back up.”  
“Yes.  I have every faith in David.  If he says she’ll be alright, I believe him.  As long as she doesn’t get an infection she’ll be fine.  Only time will tell, but so far so good.”   
Tricia’s eyes saddened.  “And Jed?”  
“This was everything he ever wanted.  He’s working real hard as a way of keeping his mind off things but he’s completely broken-hearted”  
Tricia dropped her head wearily into her hands.  “Yes, I know.”  
“You do?” Heyes’ voice rose in surprise.  
Tricia shook her head sadly.  “I’m a doctor’s wife.  Other people’s stories aren’t my secret to tell.”  
“I guess it’s more common than you think.  Folks just don’t talk about it much.”  A frown crinkled Heyes’ brow as his eyes became more distant.  “You look beat.  Have you slept?”  
“Not much.  I expect I’ll get some soon.  Nathan seems to have escaped this, thank heavens.  My mother’s taken him again.  The poor boy seems to be getting handed around the family at the moment.  Children need routine and structure, this isn’t good.”  
“He’s with a grandmother who dotes on him.  He’ll be fine.”  Heyes tilted his head, examining her.  “When did you last eat?”  
“Yesterday... last night.  Oh, I’m not sure.”  
“Well, how about something?  Some eggs maybe?”  
Tricia made to stand but was gently pushed back to a sitting position.  “Nope.  I’ll make them.  It’ll be something to do to help and I bet David’s hungry.”  
A surprise flickered over Tricia’s face.  “You cook?”  
“We looked after ourselves for a long time.  Of course I can cook.  Nothing fancy, but regular eating.”  He lifted an egg from the stand on the sideboard and placed it in the palm of his hand.  “How about scrambled eggs?”  
Tricia sat back.  “Just when I thought you couldn’t surprise me anymore; a man who cooks.”  
Heyes smiled playfully and stood the egg impossibly on its end.  “I’m good with eggs.”  
Tricia’s mouth dropped open.  “So I see.  How do you do that?”  
Heyes shook his head.  “Trade secret.  I’ll show you all when Randa can sit around the table with us.”  
Tricia gave a sigh of satisfaction.  “Now that’s something to look forward to.”  
“Yeah, I’ve learned the importance of that over the last few years.  Sometimes the smallest thing can be all that keeps you going,” he gulped, “and sometimes it’s the biggest things.  The trick is to realise which is which.”        
“That’s not always easy.”  
Heyes shook his head.  “Until you face the prospect of losing them.  That has a way of focusing a man’s mind.”       
Tricia nodded sagely before a smile twitched at her mouth.  “Talking of focusing the mind, are you going to do more tricks with those eggs?”  
“Tricks?”  
“Watching a man cook will be a big enough trick for me.   David practically has to ask me what he takes in his coffee.”  
Heyes gathered the eggs into the mixing bowl from the sideboard.  “Yeah?  Well, we’ve not all had a lovely wife to come home to.  Some of us have had to make do.”  
“Lovely wife?”  Tricia smiled, humbly.  “Oh, Hannibal.”  
“You are a beautiful woman - right through to the bone.  David is a lucky man.”  Heyes raised his head to smile at the doctor walking into the kitchen.  “Talk of the devil.”   
“Complimenting my wife,” David smiled.  “Should I be concerned, Hannibal?”  
“You should be counting your lucky stars.  You’re punching well above your weight.  How’s Randa, David?”  
“A little better.  She slept.  I want her to eat something, but she seems to respond better to fasting.”  
“I’m making eggs, David.  How about some of those?”  
“Yes, we could try.”  David sighed heavily.  “I found arsenic in the vomit from the tent at the fair, Hannibal.  The whole town was randomly poisoned.  I’ve taken my findings to the sheriff and he’s telegraphed the governor.”  
“Arsenic?”  
“Except for Randa.  I can’t find anything in her system, but she does seem to be responding to activated charcoal.”   
“None?  But if everyone else...?”  Heyes shook his head.  “Activated charcoal?”  
“It has a property called chemisorption.  It has an absorptive property for some compounds.  It removes things as they pass through the body.”  
“But that would suggest there’s something to remove, if she’s getting better.”    
“Exactly.  As far as I can see she’s just ill.  I’ve done every test I know of.  I don’t know what else to try.  Tricia prepares all her food and drink.  I’m stumped.”  
Heyes dragged out a seat, his fingers drumming on the table.  
David shared a glance with his wife.  “Out with it, Hannibal.  I can see your mind’s buzzing.”  
“David, would you be offended If I contacted a doctor who used to be a Pinkerton,” Heyes raised a hand to stifle the words on the doctor’s lips.  “I’m not saying for a moment that you’re not good at your job.  You’re the best I’ve ever met and I respect you immensely, it's just that she might have some expertise in an area you would never come across in the ordinary course of events.  A bit of a specialist, you might say.”  
David’s wry smile widened.  “Hannibal, I never claim to know everything and you should beware of any doctor who does.  I wasn't about to bite your hand off for the offer of help.  ‘She,’ you say?”  
Heyes nodded.  “Hester Bentham.  I don’t know if she’ll come.  I can only ask.”  
“Is that the friend Mrs. Stewart talked about?”  
“She did?” Heyes asked in surprise.  
“Yes.”  David joined the company at the table.  “She did.  Ask her, Hannibal, or do you think I should?”  
Heyes considered the question.  “What the hey!  Let’s both ask.  Make sure you pose her a tricky medical question, David.  She loves a challenge.”  
   
Miranda felt the mattress judder and wobble as someone sat on it.  She forced open her heavy eyelids and whimpered a weary greeting at the smiling, dark eyes staring into hers.   
“How you doing there, lazybones?  Still in bed?”  
“Oh, I know.  I just can’t shake this off.”  
“How about some eggs?  I made them myself.”  
Miranda’s eyes widened.  “You did?”  
“Why is everyone so surprised?  How do you think we survived all those years on the road?”  
“Oh, I realise that.”  Miranda pushed herself to a sitting position.  “I meant Tricia let you cook in her kitchen.  Amy’s been complaining that she’s not allowed to do anything at all.  She’s not even allowed to make my tea anymore.”  
“Maybe it was just the novelty value,” Heyes smiled, lifting the tray onto her lap.  “I was heavily supervised.  She looked at me like I was a dog walking on its hind legs.”  
Miranda loaded a fork full of the pale-yellow eggs and savoured them appreciatively.  “I’m not hungry, you know.  I’m only eating these for you.”  
“Good.  We need to get some nourishment into you.   You look far to thin already.”  
“Thank you.  You look lovely yourself.”  
The smile dropped from Heyes’ face, crowded out by worry.  “How are you really feeling, Randa?”  
“Like I’ve been run over by a coach and four, but I’m a little better today.”  
“Good.”  Heyes hesitated.  “Just make sure you only eat what David and Tricia gives you, huh?”  
The fork stopped in mid air.  “What are you saying?  I’m being poisoned!?”  
“No, David can’t find a thing, but you know how cautious I am after the threat to people close to me.”  Heyes clutched at her left hand.  “And you matter to me.  You’re one of the most important things in my life.  You do know that don’t you?”  
Miranda dropped her eyes but he felt her fingers curl around his.  “I’ll be careful.”  She sighed and raised her deep-blue eyes to stare deeply into his.  “As long as you come and make me some more of your eggs?”  
Heyes cheeks pitted with dimples.  “It’s a deal.”  
“But no coffee, though.  I can’t believe Tricia thought that would tempt my appetite.”  
Heyes folded his arms indignantly.  “What’s wrong with my coffee?”  
Miranda gave a throaty chuckle.  “Nothing; unless you want to drink it.”         
   
 A middle-aged woman stepped down from the passenger car, carrying two carpet bags and an anticipating, searching expression.  She moved out of the way of the other disembarking travellers and setting her bags down on the boards, she surveyed the platform with large, hopeful eyes.

She was a pretty enough woman, in a mousy, middle-aged, maidenly sort of way and though she tended to run a little heavy around the hips she carried herself in a most confident and dignified manner.  She was not someone to whom you would be disrespectful, but at the same time she was not someone you would particularly notice either.     
She continued to scrutinize the muddle of other passengers greeting and meeting up with various friends and family members.  Eventually her eyes lighted upon a rather tall, but very handsome man who also appeared to be searching the crowd.  Quite confident that this must be the person whom she was seeking, she pulled herself up to her most dignified stance and stepped forward with hand extended.  
“Good afternoon,”  she greeted him as the man automatically took her hand in his.  “I'm Miss Helena Doolittle.  Am I correct in assuming that you are Mr. Robertson?”  
“Oh!”  David looked a little abashed at the mistaken identity.  He had also made an assumption as to this woman's identity.  “No, I'm sorry Miss—Doolittle...?  No.  Ahh, you're looking for Floyd Robertson?”  
“Oh dear, I'm so sorry.”  Miss Doolittle retracted her hand from his and didn't do a very good job of hiding her disappointment.  “Do you know him?  Is he here?”  
David creased his brow.  “You are expecting him to be here to meet you but you don't know what he looks like?”  
“That's correct,”  Miss Doolittle responded as though there was nothing at all out of the ordinary with that condition.  “You see, Mr. Robertson placed an advert in some of the papers back east, stating that he was seeking a nanny.  It seems the poor man was tragically widowed a few years back and is finding the running of his property and trying to raise two children all on his own a little more than he can handle.  I simply responded to his advert and he assured me that he would be here to meet me.”  
“Oh.”  David nodded.  “That's odd; he never said anything...oh well.”  The doctor began to look around the busy platform, searching for the familiar countenance of the rancher.  Then he grinned and pointed just as Hannibal stepped out of the office, effectively blocking the view of Mr. Robertson.  “There he is.”  
“Oh my.”  Miss Doolittle's features brightened up again as she spied yet another very handsome man walking towards them.  She extended her hand once again as the wonderfully dimpled smile came towards them.  “Mr. Robertson?”  
Heyes took her hand and his smiled softened.  “Oh, no, ma'am.  Sorry.”  
Miss Doolittle's smile again dropped in disappointment.  “Oh dear,” then added as a mumbled aside, “not as sorry as I am.”  She sighed and once again retracted her hand.  “Well where is Mr. Robertson?”  
David put a hand on Heyes' shoulder and gave him a slight push to the side and then again, pointed down to the other end of the platform.  Floyd Robertson chose that moment to glance down their way and noticed the three people watching him.  He smiled nervously, gave a little wave of his hand and began the long journey towards them.  
Miss Doolittle drooped a little.  “Oh.”  She couldn't help but show her disappointment—just a bit.  But like the trooper she was, she rallied, and pulling her shoulders up she smiled at the on-coming widower.  “I suppose he's a pleasant enough looking gentleman...”  
“Oh yes!”  Heyes assured her most adamantly.  “Ole' Floyd's a real fine, upstanding....gentleman.  Why, you won't find a harder working rancher around these parts....and he sure does love those two youngsters of his....yes, sir.”  
David was sending Heyes a rather sardonic look, hoping he would shut up before Floyd got close enough to over-hear this rather enthusiastic introduction.  Apparently Floyd picked up on some of it though, as he sent Heyes a hooded look before turning his attention to the matronly Miss Doolittle.  Heyes grinned impishly but did at least shut his mouth.  
“Ahhmm, Miss Doolittle?”  Floyd extended his hand.  
The lady accepted it.  “Yes.  You're Mr. Robertson?”  
“Yes ma'am,” Floyd shuffled.  “Ahh, how was your trip?”  
“Pleasant enough.”  
“Hmm.”  
A long moment of strained silence followed as the four people stood and looked at each other.  “Well, ah...”  Floyd spied the lady's luggage.  “Oh, here let me get your bags.”  
“Oh, yes.  Thank you.”  
Floyd stepped forward, picking up the two carpet bags then nodded farewells to the other two men.  
“Heyes, Doc.”  
Heyes and Doc nodded back as Floyd headed towards the steps leading down to street level.  Miss Doolittle followed along but had just enough time to send a quick look under her lashes towards the shorter of the two men.  
“Heyes...?”  was barely more than a whisper on the breeze and then she was gone to start her new life as nanny to a widowed rancher's children.  
Hannibal and David watched them go, feeling slightly bemused by the whole episode.  
“Did Floyd say anything to you about...?”  Heyes asked.  
“Nope,” David told him.  
“Huh!”  
“Yeah.”  
As a pair they turned to continue with their own survey of the now dwindling passengers, awaiting the arrival of a very important lady from Heyes' past.  
The middle-aged woman dismounted from the train, her piercing eyes emphasized by the twinkling crescents of light catching on her spectacles.  The tall figure wearing the black hat caught her attention and she raised a hand in welcome.  
“What in earth is she wearing?” David exclaimed, examining the top hat, collar and tie, and man’s dress frock coat.  
“Hester’s kinda unique - eccentric.  She marches to the beat of her own drum,” grinned Heyes.  “Maybe I should’ve warned you, but at least she’s wearing a skirt this time.”  
“This time?  She dresses like a man?  She’ll get arrested.”  
“Hester versus Carl Jacobs?” Heyes laughed.  “I’d pay good money to see that.”  
“Hannibal, how wonderful to see you again.”  Hester cast a professional eye over the tall, lean frame before nodding approvingly and welcoming his embrace.  “I have to say I was very surprised to hear from you,” she nodded towards David and proffered a hand.  “Dr. Gibson, I presume.  Hester Bentham.  I do hope I can help with your little problem.”  
“I certainly hope so.   All the victims have recovered except for my wife’s cousin.  Her condition fluctuates and I can’t for the life of me figure out why.  It’s been a week now and she’s gradually getting weaker and weaker.”  
“And there was arsenic in the samples taken from the mass poisoning?”  
“Yes, at fairly low levels...”  the two doctors strolled off in the direction of the hotel, already comparing notes.  “There was at least one other incident involving ginger cookies.  There have been a lot of strange things going on around here.”  
“You did the Marsh Test?”  
“First test I did.  Arsenic seemed to be the most obvious culprit.”  
“Hester,” Heyes called to the retreating backs.  “are these your bags?”  
“Oh, yes,” Hester nodded.  “My bags.  I’d forgotten about those.  Can you grab them Mr. Heyes?”  
Heyes sighed heavily, pulling at the handle of a carpet bag.  “What’ve you got in here?  An anvil?”  
“Books and learned articles.  The cornerstone to medical knowledge,” Hester retorted.  
“No body parts?  I know dead weight when I feel it.” Heyes smiled awkwardly at the shocked-looking matron who stared at the bags before looking the ex-outlaw up and down.  “I’m joking, ma’am.  It’s heavy, that’s all.”  Heyes hauled one up under his arm before grabbing the handle of the other two.  “Yeah, you two leave me to carry everything,” he muttered, following in their wake.  “Don’t mind me.  I’m only the one who brought you here.”

Hester clasped the large, leather bound books to her bosom and walked along the sidewalk towards the Gibson place with Heyes.  She had checked in, unpacked and spent at least an hour going through the chain of events before David had departed for his afternoon surgery, leaving Hester to take a statement from Heyes and chart the movements of all the principal characters.  The hard facts now committed to paper, it was time to throw around vague ideas to see what came out of the mist.  “So, Hannibal.  How have you been?”  
“Yeah, you know.  Ups and downs.”  
“So I hear, and now all of this.”  Hester stopped,  facing the ex-outlaw leader with an intense scrutiny.  “What do you think is going on?”  
“I think the poisonings were to punish the people of this town for being so kind to me.”  
Hester nodded.  “And Mrs. Thornton?”  
“Randa?  I’m worried sick about her.  I can’t believe this is simply a mysterious illness.  Abi always said she didn’t believe in coincidences.”  
Hester’s scrutiny became more intense.  “She’s special to you?”  
Heyes’ eyes darkened.  “We had an understanding before Abi came.”  
“Hmm.  Didn’t it occur to you to contact the mother of your child when you were released?”  
Heyes shifted distractedly.  “I was confused and too caught up in everything to think straight.  I know I should’ve.  I would have done... but events overtook me.”  
“I’m not dictating anything, I merely ask.  I need to find out what is important to you, and therefore what, or who, might be targeted,” Hester replied, as neutrally as possible.  “So this woman is significant and she has a mysterious illness after you have been threatened with ‘accidents?’  Yes, there does seem to be too much synchronism for comfort, especially coupled with the other poor widow.  You do seem to have a type.”  
Heyes gave a snort of irritation.  “How is she, Hester?”  
“Who?”  
“Abi,” Heyes tried not to snap.  “Who d’ya think?  The other widow!”  
“I haven’t seen her since she went to California,” the shrewd eyes assessed the man before her.  “She hasn’t come back.”  
“She hasn’t?” Heyes frowned.  
“No.  I think she was afraid that if she went back to the school you might seek her out and try to break your parole.”  
Heyes processed this information, determined not to share the possibility that she had almost been right.  “I’m not stupid.”  
Hester laid a gentle hand on his arm.  “I never said you were, but I know you two.  It was a wild ride, but it was always going to end in heartbreak.  It’s best to face up to that and put it where it belongs while you still have enough good memories to treasure.”  
“I guess.”  
“Men!  I’m so glad I favour fruit of a different flavour.  Being a woman is a terribly difficult task since it consists principally in dealing with men.   I like to reduce the odds wherever possible and stick to womankind.”  
A smile twitched at Heyes’ lips in spite of himself.  “Me too, I’ve got a real soft spot for womankind.  Really, Hester.  You did see her.  How was she?”  
“You two were made for one another, but not in this life.  I fear you will get over all of this a whole lot faster than she will.”  Hester paused, looking pensively down the street.  “Men usually do, they simply have more options.”  
“I don’t know about that,” murmured Heyes.  “Moving on is hard.  Sometimes saying goodbye is a painful way to tell someone you love them.”     
“And every time you fall in love it will be because there is a part of their essence which is the same.  Love is never a waste, Mr. Heyes.  It teaches us about ourselves and our capacity for kindness.  It could have been a mistake to make a run for it.  A child as gregarious as Anya was bound to let something slip at some point and it would have resulted in tragedy.  That’s a whole lot of responsibility to put on an eleven year old girl.  How could she live with putting her father in jail for the rest of his life if something went wrong?  That’s a poisonous legacy.  You both did the right thing.”  
Heyes sucked in a breath.  “How could you know I thought about that?”  
“It’s obvious,” Hester’s matter-of-fact retort finally hammered home what a stupid notion it had been.  “And I imagine that is why Abigail has gone to ground.  I do hope she’s alright.  I don’t like to think of her out there all alone.  She gave up everything, you know.  Her family, her job - everything.  “Remember that, Mr. Heyes.  You have Brookswood and she has nothing, along with the responsibility of a daughter.  I worry terribly about them both.”   Hester shook herself back to the matter in hand.  “Anyway, back to you and this vendetta.  This new friend, the woman from the hat shop seems to have been targeted quite quickly?”  
“She’s lucky to be alive,” Heyes nodded.  “First of all she was crushed and then she was possibly poisoned twice.”  
“Hmm, why do you think she was targeted so robustly?”  
“She was a widow and understood the feeling of loss.  She was someone to talk to and a good listener.”  Heyes shrugged.  “There was nothing between us but people seemed to think there was.  Her injuries were appalling.  The wall unit was tampered with, but it was so heavy it was a murderous act.  If there’d been a mother with a child in there…”  He rubbed his face with both hands.  “It doesn’t bear thinking about.”  
“And now all this?”  
“Can you help, Hester?”  
The older woman nodded; her comical dress at odds with the searing intelligence beneath that jaunty top hat.  “I believe I can, Mr. Heyes.  I’m sorry.  I don’t mean to give you a hard time, but the world is very hard on women who bite their lip and get on with life.  The criers get so much more support and sympathy.”  She stopped, frowning as she fixed on a couple strolling along the sidewalk on the other side of the street.  
Heyes followed her gaze to the dowdy woman in the green gingham dress escorted by a dungaree clad farmer sporting an impressive pair of grey mutton-chops.  “What’s wrong?  Do you know them?”  
Hester pursed her lips.  “Know them?  How could I know them?”  
“Don’t start getting all mysterious on me.  I asked you a straight question.  Should I follow them?”  
“Mr. Heyes, I am here to assist in the search for a diagnosis and prognosis for Mrs. Thornton, not to chase around the streets like a whippet.  You appear to be part bloodhound, just make sure you stay within the parameters of your parole.”     
   
 “So, Doctor Gibson, may I see the patient?”  
“Certainly,” David opened the door to the spare room and walked over to the pale, dark-haired woman propped up by the cocoon of pillows.  “Randa, this is Doctor Bentham.  She specializes in gastric matters and may be able to help.”  
“Gastric?  Poisoning, you mean?”  A pair of hollow, deep-blue eyes looked from one to the other.  “I’m not stupid, you know.  If you think I’m being poisoned why don’t I leave and come back when I’m better.”  
Hester gave a wry smile.  “That’s certainly an answer.  I could take her home with me.”  She patted the patient’s hand.  “If you trust me.  The mayor is kindly picking up my hotel fee but I’m sure he’ll be glad if I go.”  
“Hannibal called for you.  He told me all about you.  I trust you,” Randa shrugged.  “I can’t take much more of this.  I’ll go.”  
“There is another option, if you are brave enough,” Hester mused.  
“Brave?” David demanded.  
“Yes, she neither eats nor drinks anything from the house and we maintain the pretence that she is continuing to do so.  I will bring her sustenance I have already tested.  I also test everything which has been served to her, secretly, in the hotel.”  
“So you do think I’m being poisoned?  But how?”  Miranda blinked in disbelief.  “My cousin, Tricia prepares all my food and drink.  She’d never harm me.”  
“The tea and coffee come from the same storage jars we use every day as a family, we share meals, and the water comes from the same pump.”  David added.  “I made sure that only Tricia prepared and served her food for some time now.  She still gets ill but I don’t know how, there’s no pattern to it.  You tested almost everything.  We all eat and drink the same.”  
Hester’s keen eyes peered over her glasses.  “You think you do, but there will be a chink.  Think about it, doctor.  You believe you are eating and drinking the same, but the evidence suggests otherwise.  That is what we examine.  Empirical evidence is required at all times.”  
“We can’t ask you to be staked out like a goat, Randa.  It’s too much,” David protested.  
“Hannibal brought Doctor Bentham here because she has expertise in this area, David.  We must listen to her at the very least.”  
“Dr. Bentham, my wife does all the cooking.  She serves all the food,” David folded his arms defensively.  “She and her cousin are like sisters.  She one of the finest human beings to walk God’s earth and I simply can’t stand around and have her accused of poisoning Randa.”  
“The female of the species is generally deadlier than the male, but I don’t actually suspect your wife.  From the charts I have drawn up she could not have been involved in the collapsed unit in the hat shop, and I am working on the basis that the same person is behind all of this.  I know what the kitchen of a doctor’s house is like in these small towns.  People call in and chat while waiting.  You have seats in the hallway where somebody could easily pop in and contaminate something.  There are a million ways this could be done, and in order to catch who is doing this, we need to know how.”       
David relaxed only slightly.  “What do you suggest?”  
“That Mrs. Thornton eats only what I provide.  I will call three times a day to ‘treat’ her.  Your wife cannot know anything about this so there is no change in routine and no alteration in how things are done.  I will provide receptacles for all food and drink, which I will test.”  
“But I can’t find anything,” David protested.  
“Most clever poisoners have now moved away from metals like arsenic and are using vegetable based potions for exactly that reason.  They are almost impossible to test for; especially in the living patient, but there are some very clever chemists who have been working in that field.  Have you ever read any papers by Jean Servais Stas?”  
“I can’t say I have.”  
“A Belgian.  Abigail translated them for me.  Wonderful works.  I will lend them to you.”  Hester stood and held Miranda’s eye open while she examined the pupil.  “Slightly dilated.  Well, Mrs. Thornton?  Are you up for this little deception?  You should rally fairly quickly when the contaminations stop.  You simply need to rest and look frail.  I will leave a ‘medicine chest’ which I shall lock.  You and I will have a key to remove food and place samples for testing.  Only you, me, and Doctor Gibson will know about it.”  
“Are you sure this is necessary?” Randa demanded.  
“I have been through your diet.  You share most, if not all, of your food with the family.  You drink water from the pump, and beverages like tea and coffee are from a communal pot from which almost everyone drinks.  I need to narrow this down.  It’ll be something tiny.  So insignificant nobody notices it, but if we don’t catch them, that tiny thing will kill you, Mrs. Thornton, unless we break that cycle.  You mark my words.”  
“My,” Miranda gave a watery smile.  “That’s quite the bedside manner you have there.”  
“I work mostly with prisoners and corpses, so I guess most of my patients have no choice,” Hester’s apple cheeked smile belied the steely determination in her eyes.  “But you do.  I can cure you, but only you can help me to catch them.  What do you say?”     
“I say that Hannibal has the most interesting friends of anyone I ever met.”  Resolution flickered in Miranda’s eyes.  “I need to stay alive if I’m to meet more of them, don’t I?”  
   
 The pair stopped, chatting at the corner, watched carefully by the dark brown eye which peered around the edge of the building.  The woman in the green gingham dress nodded and dropped a kiss on the man’s cheek.  They parted and she headed across the road and back into town, towards the watching ex-outlaw who darted into a nearby alley and flattened himself against a wall.   
Which one to follow?  Visions of an outraged matron causing a commotion at being followed by an ex-criminal flashed through his mind and decided the matter for him.  Heyes allowed the woman to pass by on the other side and swung out onto the sidewalk.  It was way easier to explain shadowing the man.  
The square-shouldered figure continued down the street, followed at a distance by Heyes.  The bright, caustic sunlight not only lit the way, it provided the protection of gloomy shadows for lurking as the man headed straight down Seward Street.  Was he headed for the hotel?  Maybe Alberto would be able to give the man’s name.  
It didn’t take long for that notion to be quashed when the man walked straight passed the hotel continuing on towards the railway station.  Maybe they were strangers in town and were leaving soon?  
Nope, the man’s long legs stepped down onto the dry earth of the road, the sun catching the black shiny shoes as he crossed and headed away from the station.  A spider crawled over Heyes’ brain.  What was that catching Hester’s attention?  The man wore the kind of polished leather shoes you would wear with a suit!  That was just plain wrong – most farmers wouldn’t even own shoes like that, and used polished boots for Sunday best which would double as work wear when they could no longer pass for best.  No wonder a trained detective like Hester homed in on something like that so quickly.  This man was no sodbuster - not in that footwear.     
Heyes hastened his step, darting down into the road and turning his head to watch the traffic.  It was then that the man spotted him.  
The bewhiskered face turned and Heyes’ eyes widened.  There was no mistaking the familiar grey eyes looking into his.  The cry was almost involuntary in its surprise.  “Bamforth!”  
The disguise suddenly looked artless and false in the bright sunshine – a dude in carefully-contrived, dog-eared clothing wearing the wrong shoes and stuck-on whiskers.  It was obvious who he was, especially when he took off at high speed at the mention of his name.  Heyes cursed under his breath and high-tailed it after him.  “Get the sheriff.  He’s been looking for this man!” he yelled.  
Bamforth careened around the corner chased by the ex-outlaw leader whose blood pressure was rising by the minute.  This man had not only made a total fool out of him, he was probably responsible for Amy’s terrible injuries and Randa’s poisoning.  No way was that snake going to get away this time!  The sound of his own blood rushed through his ears as his heart pumped furiously.  Not this time.  Bamforth was not going to escape.  
   
 “Sheriff!  Come quick, Heyes is chasin’ a man and he says you’ve been lookin’ for him,” panted Bart Zimmerman.  “Very near knocked me over when I was cleaning outside my shop.  Somebody called Bamforth?”  
“Heyes!” Jacobs exclaimed.  “Damn it, I warned him about taking the law into his own hands.  Where is he?”  
“Down near Schulmeyer’s stables,” the barber replied, pointing in the opposite direction, but Jacobs hadn’t hung around to correct him – he had taken off towards the stables at high speed, raising a hue and cry as he went.  
It didn’t take long before Jacobs rounded the corner, panting heavily with exertion.  His brown eyes scanned the street, cursing silently at the relative peace before him.  Sure, there were appalled-looking, lemon-lipped matrons chattering together and casting offended gazes up the street. But it was the fluttering, irritated chicken strutting away from an upturned basket, fluffing scandalized feathers at the indignity of being tipped into the road which confirmed Heyes and his quarry had passed this way at high speed.  He strode over to the skinny lad zigzagging after the bird in a loping crouch.  “Where’d they go?”        
“Down the alley,” the youth pointed into the shadows.  “It’s madness.  Henrietta will be off her layin’ for weeks!”  
Jacobs gave a snort of agreement before jogging into the gloom of the alleyway.  
He heard them before he saw them, the shouts and clattering feet echoing and bouncing in the spaces between the buildings.  The reverberation confused the senses and confounded the perceptions in the maze of alleys.  Which way did they go?  Jacobs acted on pure instinct and ran forward, down the alleyway between Seward Street and Main Street.  The loud, metallic clatter confirmed he was going in the right direction – it sounded like somebody had run into some dustbins.  There was a meow followed by the furious hissing and spitting of a piqued feline, exasperated at the disturbance its fine-dining experience before a ball of ginger fur came barrelling towards him.  It hesitated at the unexpected sight of yet another human in its shadowy domain. With fur standing up on end and the erect tail bristling like a Christmas tree the tom deftly sidestepped the sheriff, being sure to maintain eye contact all the way.  
“Stop, Bamforth!”  
Jacobs heard the call and increased his pace.  “Heyes.  Stop this, I warned you!”  
There was light at the end of the alley and the lawman headed straight for it, suddenly making out two figures silhouetted ahead of him.  “Damn it, Heyes.  You can’t afford another incident.  Stop!”  
“Bamforth!” Heyes yelled.   
There was a grinding of brakes and the screaming of horses before people started hollering and shouting warnings.  The thunderous sound of a coach in full flow attempting to grind to a halt filled the air, the storm before the horror of the crash. “Oh, God, no!” Jacobs muttered hurrying towards the gathering crowd.  “What now?”  
   
The green eyes swept around the general store.  “Can I help?”  
Elise peered from under the brim of her dowdy, old-fashioned, poke bonnet.  “A pound of coffee, please.”   
“Certainly, ma’am,” Frans Sorenson scooped the coffee into a bag and placed it on the scales.  “Anything else?”  
Elise nodded, her plush complexion doused in wrinkling, graying makeup leaving her washed out, the packing around her waistline adding to the frumpy image.  “Yes, please.  I’m interested in your tinned food.   What is that one?”  She pointed at the shelf.  
“We don’t get many ladies asking for that kind of thing in here,” Sorenson replied.  
“My husband and some friends are going on a hunting trip,” lied Elise.  “You know what men are like camping.  If I left the supplies up to them they’d be living on bourbon and cigars!”  
The grocer chortled.  “A hunting trip?  I can help with supplies for that.  I guess you’d need some bacon?”  
“Bacon, oh, yes!  And eggs – for the first day anyway, and some bread, please.”  
“Sure, if you think they can get them there in one piece.”  
A group of ladies gathered together to admire the new cookie cutters.  “Oh, look!  This one’s a tree; that would make marvellous Christmas cookies. “  
“Yes, and little stars, hearts and flowers.  These are so sweet!”  
“A butterfly.  I must have this one.  You could decorate each of the wings with a different flavor.”  
“Just think how pretty we could make a celebration look.  A bridal shower, a birthday, the birth of a new baby…”  
The women shared a plaintive look.  “A new baby.  Poor Beth, she waited so long to get married and now this happens.  It’s so tragic.”  
“Maybe we should all buy one each and have a little get-together and focus on the future.  I’m so sure she’ll be fine with her next pregnancy,”  
Elise frowned.  “Beth?”  
“Yes, Beth Jordan. Well, I suppose she's Beth Curry now.  She lost her baby.  Do you know her?”  
“Yes,” Elise corrected herself.  “Well, no.  I met her at the Fourth of July celebrations at the bake sale stall.  She’s lovely.  I didn’t realize she was pregnant.”  
“None of us did,” the older of the ladies replied.  “She was just married and it was very early days.  Sad, but we must pray for another.”  
“Yes, indeed.”  
“She lost it?” Elise mused pensively.  
“Very sad.”  The youngest woman nodded.  “Her husband is heartbroken.  I’ve never seen a man so, well… empty.  It’s as though the baby was ripped from his soul as well as hers.  That child would have been so loved.”  
“We have these tins of stew,” Frans Sorenson pushed the items in question under Elise’s nose.  “These are perfect for a hunting trip.  These, some beans and maybe the peas.  As near to a home cooked meal as a man can get outside of a wife’s ministrations.”  
“Yes,” Elise nodded absently.  “Stew.”  
“Can’t do better, ma’am.  Not unless they cook what they kill.”  
“Kill…” Elise murmured.  
Bart Zimmerman bustled into the shop bursting with news.  “There’s a chase on folks!  That Hannibal Heyes sent me to get the sheriff.”  
“A chase?” demanded the older lady.  
“Yeah,” Zimmerman confirmed.  “Somebody called Bamforth.”  
“Never heard of him.  What is this Bamforth supposed to have done?”  The women nodded and shared a look of disapproval.  Chasing through the streets?  Whatever next?   
“Was the sheriff looking for this man, or did that outlaw have a grudge?” the brunette demanded.  
“What a waste.  Chasing a man?  Half the ladies in this town could only dream of being chased by Hannibal Heyes,” giggled the blonde.  
Frans Sorenson turned the tin of stew impatiently in his hand.  “Ma’am?”  He looked around the shop.  “Where’d she go?”  
The older lady looked around, her pinched nose in the air.  “I have no idea.  Did anyone see her leave?”  
There was a general chorus of ‘no’s before the blonde spoke again.  “She just left like that?  In the middle of an order?  How rude.”

Jacobs gave a gasp of exasperation and glowered at the pair of men struggling in the middle of the road.  “Heyes!  Don’t you realize the chaos you’ve caused?”  
The dark eyes scanned the immediate vicinity, suddenly shocked into taking stock of his surroundings.  The street was littered in bales of hay, strands drifting in the summer breeze across a scene of devastation.  A cart lay on its side, the distressed horse being assisted out of the traces by passers-by, but trying to struggle to its feet.  Heyes looked back down at the opponent caught beneath him, both men still breathing heavily from the chase.  
The sheriff turned to the farmer sitting on the sidewalk holding his head in his hands.  “Are you alright, Ralph?”  
“Yeah, Carl.  Just a bit shaken.”  Ralph cast worried eyes over to his horse.  “Mabel, get ‘er outta that.  Is she hurt?”  
The mare was helped free by two men.  “Nah, Ralph.  No harm done.  She’s fine, ain’t ya, girl?”      
“You’re under arrest, Heyes,” Jacobs barked.  “You were warned not to take the law into your own hands and you start a running battle through the streets.  I won’t have that in my town.”  
“Running battle?”  Heyes frowned, sitting up on Bamforth’s chest.  “What running battle?  I saw a wanted man and gave chase as well as telling folks to get you.”  He leaned forward and dragged off one of the fake muttonchops, the skin stretching against the gum.  “That’s not against the law.  It’s my civic duty.”  
“I told you not to go after Bamforth.”  
“I was walking down the street and he turned and looked at me,” Heyes lied.  “We recognized one another instantly.  Was I supposed to let him get away?  Besides, you told me not to go after him outside of this county!”  
“I won’t have armed men taking over the streets of Brookswood!”  
“Armed?”  Heyes glanced down at his holster.  “I’m not armed.”  Bamforth groaned.  “He might be though; I haven’t had a chance to check.”  Heyes patted his captive down producing both a colt and a Derringer which he tossed at the lawman’s feet.  “I thought so.  I’d suggest you search him well though, he’s probably got a lock pick.”  
“I’ll be searching you both before I lock you up.”  
“On what charges?” Heyes demanded, indignantly.  “I’m unarmed and kept a wanted man in view while I sent people to come get you.”  
Jacobs glowered at Heyes’ empty holster.  “What did you do with your gun?”  
“I tossed it aside right at the beginning of the chase,” Heyes replied with a scowl.  “I didn’t want anyone to read too much into this.” Heyes sat back on his heels and scowled down at his captive.  “And it’s a good job I did too, considering what you’re accusing me of doing!”  
“You’re brawling in the road.  You caused an accident.”  
“No, I didn’t,” cried Heyes, pointing at Bamforth.  “He did.  He ran right out in the road without looking!  I dragged him out of the way or things’d be a whole lot worse.”  
Carl Jacobs dragged off his hat distractedly.  “Don’t lie to me.”  
“I did!”  Heyes appealed to the gathering crowd.  “Tell him, one of you.”  
“That’s right enough, Carl,” the driver of the cart raised his rheumy eyes.  “The lanky one ran straight out in front of me.  Poor Mabel tried to stop in time but she pulled the wagon to the side and it turned over.”  Ralph looked over at Heyes and pointed with a gnarled finger.  “It was the way he told it.  That idiot would’ve been right under my wheels unless he’d been pulled away.  You shouldn’t be arrestin’ that fella, you should he shakin’ him by the hand.”    
Jacobs’ suspicious dark eyes bored into Heyes who delivered his most glittering smile before grasping a handful of fabric in the centre of Bamforth’s chest and dragging him to his wobbly feet.  “Told ya, Sheriff.  There’s no way I’m gonna do anything stupid and land back in jail.  Now, why don’t I help you search him before I go back and find my gun?”  Heyes’ dancing eyes turned malevolent as he levelled them on Bamforth.  “I’ll probably think of looking all kinds of places that’d never occur to a lawman.”  
   
 Joe Morin glanced over at the cell where Bamforth stood draped in a blanket to cover the droopy combination underwear borrowed from the box of charitable donations for vagrants.  The crotch swung somewhere about his knees and the sleeves had been folded back numerous times to free up his hands.  Bamforth hadn’t been quite sure what species his donated apparel had been designed to fit; maybe some kind of primate?  He sniffed.  Yup, that might explain the somewhat gamey smell of the garment.  He toyed with the idea of asking but decided there were some things it was better not to know.  His shoulders slumped in defeat and he slid down onto the bench.   
Damn that Heyes!  He knew every trick in the book and then some.  Bamforth had been stripped naked and searched like he’d never been searched before.  Every stitch of clothing had been confiscated to prevent him from using anything secreted about his person.  There was no point in explaining that his wife was the lock-picker.  They’d never believe him.  So here he was in jail while Heyes got to walk away, scott free.  
“I don’t like leaving you here alone, boss,” Joe murmured.  “He’s real tricky, if Heyes is to be believed.”  
“Get some sleep.  I’ll take this shift because you were up real early this morning.  Be back at 2 am, ready to watch him until dawn.”  
“If you’re sure…?” Joe muttered.  
“I’m sure.  Get some sleep, Joe.”  
“What am I going to do?” Bamforth demanded.  “Melt through the bars along with the stench?”  
Both the sheriff and the deputy eyed the prisoner with the kind of dismissive coldness reserved for drunks and mother-beaters before turning back to their conversation.   
“I could sleep here, there’s a bunk.”  
Jacobs paused.  “I guess; if you’re alright with that.  The mayor’s trying to get him transferred to a jail where he can be held more securely for questioning.  He’s a tricky one with all those disguises and lock picks.”  
“Sure.  I’ll get some blankets and a pillow.  We’ll put this man where he should be.”  
 “Give me strength,” Bamforth lay down on the bunk and placed the pillow over his face, only to snatch it away coughing and spluttering.  “Dear God!  Haven’t you got a clean one?”  
Jacobs returned to his report writing without as much as a glance at the prisoner.  “Order one on room service.”  
   
Heyes sat back and smiled at Tricia, his belly full of roast chicken and mashed potatoes.  “That was a wonderful meal.”   
“Well, I expect you worked up quite the appetite running about town like that,” Tricia laughed.  “Poor Carl, he must really have thought you were sliding back into your outlaw ways.”  
“It was shades of what happened in Joplin, but I wasn’t going to lose it the way I did there.  It cost me too much and I learned a hard lesson.”  
Amy examined Heyes with clear, blue eyes.  “I can’t imagine you as an outlaw.  If I’d met you then, I think I’d be a little afraid of you.”  
Heyes frowned.  “I guess I never thought enough of how it would take ordinary people, but I did my best to make sure people knew they were safe.”  
“As long as they did what you told them,” Amy pressed.  
Heyes gave a heavy sigh.  “I’d lost my way.  Life was so hard I couldn’t see how far from normal I’d drifted.”  
Amy was not to be so easily put off.  “Yet you found a woman who loved you.  Didn’t she point that out?”  
Heyes’ eyes darkened.  “Frequently, but I wasn’t much for listening back then.”  
Amy arched her brows.  “But she stuck around?”  
“Yeah, well.  She wasn’t so great at listening either.  Neither of us could get off of being right all the time.  It took a long time before either of us realized that being smart and being right weren’t the same thing.  Nobody wins out of that kind of attitude.”  
“She was clever?” Amy queried.  
“She still is.  Trying to outwit her was a lot of fun,” Heyes sighed.  “But that’s all in the past.”  
“And this female doctor is one of her friends?”  Amy looked over to the hallway where Hester had briefly appeared before disappearing into Randa’s room.  “She’s a bit of an odd, old bird.”  
“I think they call it eccentric,” David smiled.  “She’s very knowledgeable about the gastric system.”  
“Most unusual.  I’ve never met a female doctor,” Amy shrugged.  “But I’ve never met a woman who dresses in men’s clothes before either.”  
“Hester doesn’t care what people think of her,” Heyes’ cheeks pitted with dimples.  “That can be very freeing.”  
“I don’t think I could ever be like that,” mused Amy.  “She’s very brave.”  
“She sure is,” Heyes nodded.  “She was arrested as a spy during the war.  I guess after that, wearing a top hat and frock coat is no big deal.”  
Tricia’s jawed dropped open.  “Really!?  A spy?  My goodness, yes, I can see why she feels that she’s earned the right to dress as she pleases.  You do know the most fascinating people, Hannibal.”  She stood.  “Cherry pie anyone?”  
Heyes shook his head.  “No thanks, I’ve had enough.”  He turned to smile at Hester who appeared in the doorway.  “We were just talking about you.  Were your ears burning?”  
“Really?”  Hester put down her carpet bag and walked into the kitchen.  “I can only imagine.”  Her eyes glinted mischievously.  “Anything in particular or all of it?”  
“I was telling them about your wartime experiences,” Heyes replied.   
“The young can be so foolhardy, can’t they?”  Hester nodded.  “The world seems a different place now.  Less free and more driven by convention, but I guess they weren’t better times – they were just my times.  It is odd how one can think so fondly of such turbulent events, but I do.”  She beamed around the room.  “I was very conventional in those days.  Quite the straight-laced, little missy.”   
“How straight-laced could you have been if you became a spy?” Amy asked, incredulously.  
“I always had that wild side, bubbling under the surface,” Hester grinned.  I looked sweet and innocent enough to fool men,” she punctuated the flow with a shrug, “but we all know that’s not difficult, don’t we?  I had beautiful, blonde hair in those days.”  Hester looked straight at Amy, “like yours, but natural.”  
Amy coloured up instantly.  “Mine is natural!”  
“Really?” Hester titled her head.  “I thought I detected the touch of chamomile and lemon juice.  No matter.  Maybe I detect an unconventional spirit in there?  The kind of person who has the drive to survive a war too.”  
“I’d like to think that peacetime is more conventional than wartime,” David chuckled.  He shot a look at Heyes before adding.  “On the whole.”  
“Pie, Doctor?”  Tricia asked.  “We were just about to have dessert.”  
“No, thank you.  I ate before I came but don’t let me stop you.  Doctor Gibson, may I have a word in private?”  
“Of course.”  David stood.  
“Can I go and see Randa?” Heyes asked.  
“Of course, but don’t tire her,” Hester nodded.  
Tricia looked around the quickly emptying kitchen.  “It’s a good job I’m not the touchy type or I’d think nobody wants my pie.”  
               
“Come in,” Miranda called in response to the gentle tap at the door.  “Hannibal.  It’s lovely to see you.”  
He walked over and dragged the chair to her bedside, turning it to sit with his head supported on the chair back while he examined her.  “You look a little better.”  
“I feel it.  I’ve managed to get an undisturbed sleep.  That made a big difference, I can tell you.”  
“So Hester has managed to help you?”  
Miranda nodded.  “Yes, but I’m still tired.  A few more days and I should be on the road to recovery.”  
Heyes’ eyes softened.  “Good.  Has she said what caused this yet?”  
“She doesn’t know.  She’s taking regular samples to test at the hotel.”  
“Can you keep your food down now?”  
“Yes.”  Miranda reached out a hand.  “Thank you for bringing her here.  I know that must have been difficult because she’s so close to Abi.”  
Heyes tilted the chair forward and grasped her fingers.  “Helping you will never be a difficult choice.  Besides, Abi would want to help you too.  She thinks a lot of you.”  
“She does?”  
“Yes, she does.  She has very good taste.”  Heyes toyed with her hand, “but nobody could think more of you than I do.”   
“Hannibal, you need to know that Doctor Bentham offered to take me out of here to give me a break.  I almost went.”  Miranda watched the pain flicker in the brown eyes.  “I’m so tired of it all.  I don’t want to lose you, so I’m glad that she suggested this isolation.  Only the two doctors and Tricia are allowed to see me.”   
“I’m honored, then?”  
Miranda sighed deeply.  “Whatever is happening, we know it isn’t you, Hannibal.”  
“I wish I had the confidence you did.  I can’t shake the feeling I’ve hurt you.”  
“Well, you know I think the world of you, Hannibal.”  
“Yeah, I kinda guessed that.  Especially when you came back to look in the hat shop window after you’d left the shop the first time you met Amy.  I’ve gotta admit, I was real flattered even if it was a bit pushy.”  
Miranda frowned.  “Look in the window?  Me?”  
“Yes, Amy saw you and mentioned it.”  
“No.  That first day, when I met Amy, we left and came here.  I didn’t go back to the hat shop.”   
“Are you sure?” Heyes shook his head in confusion.  “She definitely said you walked passed.”  
“I’m sure.  Ask Tricia if you don’t believe me.”    
Heyes stood, dragging the chair away from the bed before leaning over and stroking her face.  “I love you, and I intend to do that for a long time to come, Randa, so you get yourself better, ya’hear?”  He leaned over and dropped a tender kiss on her lips.  “I’m going to let you sleep now.  I’ll see you tomorrow.”  
“Yes, I am tired.  Another good sleep and I’ll rally even more.”  
Heyes stood, a pang of regret searing through his heart.  “If this is anything to do with me…”  He paused.  “I’m so sorry, Randa.  I’ll make this up to you.”  
“We don’t know that, Hannibal.  It affected so many people.  I’m just one more.”  
Heyes bit back the thought that they’d recovered, but somebody had continually found a way to get to her.  Instead he murmured reassurance.  “Sure, maybe you just got it real bad.  Goodnight, Randa.”  He padded quietly over to the door and turned to look at her pale face against the pillow.  “Sleep well, sweetheart.”  
   
 “How is she?” Tricia carried a tray of dishes over to the sink.   
“Tired, but a little better I think.”  
“Would you like a drink?” Amy asked.  “I was thinking of making some tea before I went home.”  
“No thanks,” Heyes replied, pensively.   
“Tea, Tricia?” Amy persisted, lifting the tea caddy.  
“Not for me, thanks.  I could make some for Randa, though.  Let her have a drink before she settles down for the night.”  
“That sounds like a wonderful idea.  You make the tea, Tricia, and I’ll wash up while you serve it to her.”  Amy twisted the caddy in her hands waiting for an answer.  
“You’ll wash up?  That’s a wonderful help,” beamed Tricia taking the tea caddy from Amy.   
“Yeah.  You do that and I’ll walk you home, Amy,” Heyes murmured absently, shifting in his seat.  “Then I’d best get back.”  
Tricia poured the boiling water over the tea leaves and left it to infuse.  “Yes, I suppose you should.  It’s starting to get dark.  You don’t want to be too late getting back.”  
“Hmm,” Heyes smiled, slipping into his best poker face as a chill settled over his heart.  “Amy doesn’t want to walk home alone in the dark either.   
“You are sweet, Hannibal.”  
“Am I?  I thought you said you’d be afraid of me if I was still an outlaw.”  
“But you’re not.  Are you?”  
Heyes gave her his most glittering smile.  “Can you be sure, Amy?  I suppose it would depend on how far somebody pushed me.”         
Amy gave a tinkling laugh.  “Oh, Hannibal!  You just can’t do 'scary' anymore.”      
Tricia poured out the tea and placed it on a tray to take it through to Miranda.  “I’ll just be a moment.”  
Heyes stood watching Amy up to her elbows in suds at the sink and his eyes hardened.  “I’ll say goodnight to Randa.”  
“Didn’t you already do that?” Amy asked.  
“Yeah, but she’ll be asleep by the time I go.”  Heyes followed Tricia to the bedroom and where she placed the cup by Randa’s bed.  He watched her leave before he tiptoed over to the drowsy woman.  “Whatever you do, do not drink that tea,” he hissed in her ear.  
Miranda stirred.  “What?”  
“Do not drink that tea.  Don’t consume anything.  I’m going for help.”  His dark eyes pressed home the urgency of his message.  “If anyone comes in pretend to be asleep, and I mean anyone, got that?”  
“Hannibal?”  
“Promise me!” he hissed.  “I can’t be in two places at one time.  I think I know how this is being done.”  
The questioning, deep-blue eyes stared into his.  “I promise.”   
Heyes gave a nod of satisfaction.  “This’ll be over soon, Randa.  I give you my word.” 

“Hands up, Sheriff,” the female voice murmured in Carl Jacobs’ ear.  “Keep them where I can see them.”  
He gave a puff of exasperation and complied, his heart sinking as he felt a hand tug away his gun.   
Elise Daignault walked into his field of vision, holding a Schofield on him.  “This is a precaution, Sheriff.  Please don’t do anything stupid.  I need you to listen to me and I thought this would be the best way to achieve that.”  Her green eyes darted over to the cell where Bamforth suddenly stood.  “Valentine?  What on earth are you wearing?  Have you no pride, man?”  
“Elise, get me out of here!”  
“Nuh, uh,” Joe Morin stepped out of the cell behind Bamforth, his gun drawn.  “Guess you didn’t notice me resting in here, ma’am.  Now, I’ve got a gun on your partner in crime.  You do anything to the sheriff and I’ll shoot your friend before I shoot you.  Drop it.”  
“Partner in crime?” Elise shook her head.  “I told you we should have told the sheriff who we are, Valentine.”  
“How could we?” Bamforth exclaimed.  “Her sister has all kinds of lawmen on retainer.”  
“Drop the gun,” Joe persisted.  
“If I do, will you listen to me?”  
“From inside a cell, yeah,” Jacobs nodded.  He paused considering Elise’s earlier escape from these cells.  After we’ve searched you.  Properly this time.  You won’t make a fool of me twice.”  
“Search her!” Valentine spluttered.  “That’s my wife you’re talking to.  If you lay a finger on her I’ll break your damned neck.”  
“Language, Valentine,” scolded Elise.  “He does have a point; after all I did pick the lock.”  She smiled archly at the lawman.  “Besides, Sheriff Jacobs is a perfect gentleman.  I was quite taken with him during my time here.”  
“Taken with him?”  Valentine propped his hands on his hips, the crotch of his combination underwear dangling comically around his knees.  “Is that some kind of French etiquette?  I am here you know.”  
“Will you two pack it in?” barked Jacobs.  “Drop that gun, Miss....Missus.  What is your name anyway?”  
“I was born Elise Marie Véronique Daignault.  I married him and became Elise Bamforth, and we are not criminals.  We are consulting detectives and I need you to listen to what I have to say.”  
“Detectives?” Joe shrugged.  “But you’re a woman.”  
Bamforth rolled his eyes.  “Well spotted, Deputy.  You obviously have a talent for this.”  
“We are keeping a woman under observation…”  
“Stop right there, Elise!” Bamforth cried.  “We can’t trust them.”  
“We have to, Valentine.  You know Abi asked me to keep an eye on the Jordans while I was out here.  Beth Jordan lost her baby!  Can you imagine the pain of that?  I have to tell them.”  
Bamforth blanched, dropping his forehead against the bars.  “Lost it?  You don’t think…?”  
“Yes, I do.  I won’t stand by and let her get away with this.”  
“What are you two talking about?” Jacobs shook his head in frustration.   
“Amy Oliphant.” Elise’s eyes flashed with determination.  “We have been paid by her late husband’s family to keep her under observation.  They are convinced that he was murdered, although no trace of a poison could be found, they have financed us to make sure she can never rest and enjoy her inheritance.”  
“Huh?” Jacobs frowned.   
“She’s a wealthy woman, yet she changed her name and opened a hat shop in the West?  Doesn’t that strike you as strange behaviour?”  
“Maybe she wanted to get away from in-laws who are nuts enough to hound her for the rest of her life?” suggested Jacobs.  
“I told you he’d be on her side,” muttered Bamforth.  
“Sheriff Jacobs.  Amy Oliphant’s real name is plain, old Amy Brown.  Her mother was a convicted back-street abortionist who pushed her daughters to marry wealthy men.  Old Mrs. Brown was very skilled in using herbs to induce miscarriage in the early stages of pregnancy.  Doesn’t it strike you as a coincidence that Beth has lost her baby at the same time as a woman brought up around that is in the area?  Especially when there has been a non-specific threat to that family and she’s lied about her identity?”  Elise thrust her handgun towards Jacobs.  “Think, man!  The town has been poisoned and you have a suspected poisoner, brought up by an herbalist, in your midst.  Don’t you think that’s a good place to start?”  
Jacobs stood slowly, his eyes reflecting the thoughts whirling in his mind.  “Can you prove any of this?”  
“Of course we can!  Why do you think Cage Atwater backed us up?  I know him.  I used to be a Pinkerton until I married.  I did want to have some concrete evidence before I approached you, but I no longer have time.  I think she may be trying to hurt the Jordans and their friends.  Somebody is going to die.”  
“A Pinkerton?  Which is why you know Mrs. Stewart,” Jacobs muttered.  
“You know her too!?”  Elise walked over and placed her gun on the desk.  “So get over there and arrest Amy.  There will be poisons in that place of hers; I’ll stake my life on it.  That’s what we were looking for when we broke into her place.”    
“Did she poison you too?  What was all that about the ginger cookies?”  
“I’m pregnant.  I had morning sickness.  Ginger is good for that.”  
Jacobs scratched his head thoughtfully.  “That explains in here, but what about the hat shop, and all those women.”  
“Has it occurred to you that it wasn’t the cookies, but the tea which was contaminated?” Elsie huffed, impatiently.  “I didn’t drink any.  I wouldn’t take anything prepared by that woman!  Especially not in my condition.”   
“And that’s why you wouldn’t let the doctor examine you when you were dressed as his mother.  He’d have spotted you weren’t elderly and that you were pregnant.”  Jacobs rubbed his face as things fell into place at last.   “Joe, put your gun away.  I do believe that Mrs. Bamforth might be telling the truth.”    
 “Was that the front door closing?” Amy asked.  
Tricia put down her tea towel, a frown creasing her brow.  “I certainly heard something.  Let me check.  It can’t be David and Doctor Bentham; they’ve gone over to the hotel.”  
Amy dried her hands before stepping over to the range to hang the towel on the handle where it was kept, her heart skipping a beat.  The tea caddy; it was gone.  
Tricia called from the hallway.  “Nobody here, I’ll just check on Randa.”  
A few minutes later Tricia returned to the kitchen.  “I’ve no idea…”  She gazed around the empty room.  “Amy?”  The breeze from the open back door wafted through the room.  “Amy?”  
   
All heads turned at the sound of the door of the sheriff’s office clattering open.  “I know how she did it!”  Heyes dropped the tea caddy on the desk, breathing heavily after running all the way here.  “It’s Amy, you have to arrest her.”  He glanced around the room, suddenly aware of the tension in the atmosphere.  “Elsie?  What are you doing here?”  
“Exactly the same as you.”  Keen green eyes stared at the tea caddy.  “And stop calling me that!”  
“She knows Mrs. Stewart, Heyes.  She used to be a Pinkerton,” Jacobs folded his arms.  
Heyes’ jaw dropped open.  “Abi?  You know Abi?  Why didn’t you say?”  
“You know her too?”  Elise frowned.  “She didn’t say, but she is rather private.  We keep in touch by letter, we’re not close friends.  She just asked me to keep an eye on the Jordans and their friends while I was in the area.  I put two and two together and thought it was because they were hanging about with ex-outlaws!”   
“I was engaged to Abi once,” Heyes growled.  “I’m not a dangerous man.”  
“How was I to know?” shrugged Elise.  “I obviously had only half a story.”  
Jacobs grabbed his gun and returned it to his holster.  “And that’s a damn sight more than I had.  Why didn’t you come here earlier?”  
“I told you that!” barked Bamforth.  “Because her rich sister has been known to bribe officials.  That’s how her late husband’s family thinks Amy got away with murder in the first place.”  
Heyes felt the hairs prickle on the back of his neck.  Even as he asked the question he felt sure he knew the answer.  “Who’s her sister?”  
“A woman called Joan Baines.  She married a railroad man and lives out by Murreyville in Wyoming.”  
Both Jacobs and Heyes locked eyes and cursed under their breath.  “Why did you wait so long to tell us this?” Jacobs cried.  “Joan Baines and her husband were caught in a campaign to hurt anyone involved with Jed Curry or Hannibal Heyes.  There’s a trial coming up in Wyoming soon.”  
“What are we waiting for?”  Heyes demanded.  “Let’s get over there.  Amy’s at the Gibson place.”  
The office emptied as everyone ran for the door.  Everyone except Valentine Bamforth.                   
“Hello!  Is anyone going to let me out?”  Bamforth sighed deeply and wandered back over to his lonely bunk where he sat looking down at his stained combination underwear.  “My mother warned me about marrying a Frenchwoman, but Elise is something else again.  Life with her is like willingly smoking an exploding cigar.”  He glanced down at the stained pillow with distaste before reaching through the bars and dragging the superior bedding from the bunk recently vacated by Joe Morin.  “I might as well get some sleep. There’s nothing else to do.”  
   
Hester dropped down on Amy’s bed and scanned the assembled group through the graying fingers of dawn creeping through the window.  “We might as well face it.  She’s gotten away.”  
“For the moment,” Jacobs grumbled.  “We’ll get her.”  
“Well, Mr. Heyes, you brought that tea caddy?”  Hester stared at the box with enquiring eyes.  “So, how did you rumble her?”  
“A couple of things; Amy had told me that the first time Randa saw me visit Amy she had walked passed the shop to check on me after she’d left.  I thought it was a bit pushy, but I only mentioned it last night.  Randa told me that she and Tricia hadn’t done that, but had returned to the Gibson place.”  
“That’s it?” Joe Morin screwed up his face in curiosity.  “That’s nothing.”  
“It’s not nothing,” Elise responded.  “It’s a very subtle dripping of poison.  A very female way to colour somebody’s view.”  
Joe shook his head.  “Nah, I don’t get it.”  
Heyes sighed.  “Elsie’s right.  It did colour my view of Randa.”  
“Stop calling me that!”  
“Sorry,” Heyes gave a sheepish smile.  “Force of habit.  Anyway, right after Randa told me the truth I walked into the kitchen and the way Amy handled the tea caddy caught my eye.  As soon as she heard Randa was the only one having tea she twisted it in her hands.  Now I wouldn’t normally be suspicious of that, but when I heard she’d lied I started to look at her in a different light.  An old friend used to be a flim flammer and used a box like that for a con called ‘The Bait and Switch.’  Basically, the mark would be presented with something they’d checked – probably a diamond or something like that.  It would be locked away safely while the money was counted, and then the box would be re-opened for the mark to walk away with their purchase.  The only problem is that the box has a secret compartment and once it’s re-opened a different drawer is presented.  It might look the same, but the mark has just walked away with a fake, while the real one is still in the box safely in the secret drawer.”  
“Ingenious,” muttered Jacobs.  “So it looked like everyone was drinking tea from the same container, but when she knew Mrs. Thornton was the only one having tea she switched the drawers, so Mrs. Gibson innocently made the victim a drink from the poisoned tea.”   
Heyes nodded.  “Precisely; and when others were drinking, the drawer containing normal tea was revealed.  When Hester examined all the food she could only see ordinary tea.”  Heyes removed the lid and held the tea caddy out for inspection.  “See, this is just tea,” Heyes twisted the hexagonal box in his hands.  The mechanism sprang into action and a spring loaded drawer slid away revealing a false bottom.  “See, another lot of tea, and I’ll stake my life on that being some kind of poison.  The walls of the pot are so thick in comparison to the centre.  That’s a clue to a hidden compartment.”  He put his finger in and moved the drawer slightly.  “It also folds like a concertina so it can fit into the side of the box.”  
Elise shook her head in reluctant admiration.  “So very clever!  If only she had used that brain for good instead of murder.”  
“Yes, indeed.”  Hester pulled out some of the dried leaves and rubbed them in her fingers.  “I’ll test these and find out what Mrs. Thornton has been given.”  
“What about the miscarriage?” Elise asked Hester.  
“I’ve already found arsenic in the kitchen, so I think we can explain the general poisoning, as well as Amy’s milder bouts.”  Hester pursed her lips.  “Probably to gain sympathy and throw suspicion elsewhere.”  Hester stood and strode over to the little kitchen.  “I also found this.  Tansy.”  Hester drew back the pot from Elise.  “No, dear, you mustn’t touch this.  It can be absorbed through the skin and you are pregnant.  It was often said that where Tansy grew in the garden the woman ruled the home and that is because those women controlled their own reproduction.  It has been used to induce miscarriage for centuries.”  
“Is it poisonous?” Jacobs asked.  
“No.  Not in itself, so Amy could share a pot of Tansy tea with Beth and the only effect it would induce in Amy was the commencement of her menstrual cycle and a few cramps.  Nobody’s going to be suspicious of a pot of tea shared with someone else.  The miscarriage would simply be put down as an unfortunate incident.”  
“That’s a bit too much information for me,” Joe scowled.  “Some things shouldn’t be discussed in front of men.”  
“You’d better get over that if you want to make a good lawman,” Hester scolded.  “Real life has to be faced.”    
“This’ll kill the Kid,” Heyes whispered.  “Never was a baby wanted more.”  
Hester sighed.  “Yes, very sad.”  
“But the accident?”  Jacobs scratched his head.  “She was terribly injured by that wall unit.”  
“I’ve thought about that,” Heyes sighed.  “That very day I had confided in her that there was a threat of accidents to people close to me, and that was why Abi had taken our daughter away for safekeeping.  Amy could have been trying to make it look like she had been targeted, but bit off more than she could chew and had a really bad accident.  I told people to warn them but I think she used it.”  
“In light of what happened later I think it’s the most obvious explanation,” Hester agreed.  “It also served to help her worm her way further into her victims’ lives.”  
“You are the father of Abi’s daughter?” Elise demanded.  
“Both of them,” Heyes nodded.  
“Well, that wily, old…”  Elise turned sparkling eyes on Hester, “and you knew, I suppose?”  
“Yes, indeed,” Hester glinted.  “They were a nightmare, always trying to best one another, but such heat!”  She arched her brows.  “Their surviving daughter is beautiful and the living embodiment of their spirit.”       
Heyes paused.  “Will Randa be alright, Hester?”    
“I need to find out what she has been given.  I’m guessing digitalis by the smell.  It always smells slightly bad.  Once I confirm that, I can treat her.”  
“It was my fault.  I let her draw me in.”  Heyes dropped into a seat.  “Is this over?  At last?”    
“I hope so,” mused Hester.  “She reminded me a little of myself.  She would have been a wonderful agent.  She chose crime.  I did say she was one of life’s intelligent survivors.  After this, I’m guessing that she will be more interested in staying ahead of the law than in persecuting you.”  
Elise nodded.  “By all accounts, Amy’s husband beat her.  I can guess that may have led to his death if she felt trapped.”  
“Hmm.”  Hester pursed her lips.  “Silly man.  He clearly had no idea who he’d married.  So many husbands marry a vital, young thing and want to crush that.  Men, huh?”  
“Yes…”  Elise’s enormous eyes widened ever further.  “Valentine!  He’s still in that cell.  I forgot all about him.”  
The two lawmen shared a look and burst out laughing.  “We all did.  We’d best get back.  He’s not going to be best pleased, is he?”  
Elise bit into her lip.  “Oh, dear.  He’ll be so angry with me!”  
“Never mind, Elsie.  If he doesn’t appreciate what a stunning wife he has, we can soon focus his mind for him,” chortled Heyes.  
“Stop calling me that!”   
   
Heyes rode home by himself that afternoon.  He was in no hurry, in fact he was dreading the upcoming conversation with his partner.  He kept Karma to a sedate jog trot even though she was feeling frustrated with the enforced confinement; she wanted to run or at least a nice breezy hand gallop.  They were heading for home after all—home and dinner!  Why was her human holding her back?  
  She trotted along with her head tucked and her ears back, occasionally giving a little buck and trying to break away into a lope, but the hand on the reins held her gently but firmly in the slower gait.  She tossed her head and snorted.  Why wasn't he listening to her?  Usually he picked up on her moods and besides that he liked a good gallop just as much as she did, so what was the problem?  HELLO!?  
But Heyes wasn't listening to her.  His thoughts were far away.  How could he have been so blind, so stupid, so easily seduced by a pretty face?  He hadn't even been in love with  Amy, geesh if he had been that might have been an easy way to excuse his obtuseness.  But he didn't love her.  Yet, when he looked at her all he had seen was an incredibly beautiful woman who was both amazingly brave and seductively vulnerable all at the same time.  
 Yeah right!  He snorted, giving Karma a split second of hope that something was going to happen.  No?  Oh well.  Vulnerable!  The woman had been a viper!  A lovely wolf in sheep's clothing and he'd fallen for it!  The fact that everyone else in town had also been duped into thinking she was a friend did not give him any comfort.  He should have known.  He should have been able to see past it, and because he didn't so many people got hurt.  
 Now he had to go home and tell Jed and Beth that the loss of their child wasn't an accident.  Wasn't just one of those things that happens sometimes....no, he wasn't looking forward to getting home at all.  If he could have backed Karma up all the way into town in order to start the ride over again, he would have.  But what would be the point?  He'd have to do this sooner or later.  May as well get it done.  
 Eventually, but still too soon for Heyes and finally for Karma, they were trotting down the lane between the line of pristine white fencing.  The horses out in the main grass paddock nickered and trotted over to the fence to greet their herd-mate.  Karma snorted at them and tossed her head; finally they had gotten home and she still had time to be turned out with her family and enjoy some grazing before dinner.  
 Heyes didn't notice.  He turned her head towards the first barn and dismounted by the large doors.  Sam had already headed home for the evening so Heyes led his mare into the structure and slipping the bridle off her head, pulled on the halter and proceeded to untack her.  He was going through the motions as though in a dream; they were second nature to him and his mind was far, far away.  
 He heaved the saddle onto the rack and taking a burlap sack and a brush he set about giving his mare a rubbing down before turning her out in the pasture.  She was fed up with this.  She didn't need a rubbing down—good heavens!  The only sweat she had worked up was from her own stress at being held back and all she wanted now was to get out with her family.  
 She snorted, tossed her head, stamped her foot.  Nothing.  Rub, rub, brush, brush.  She nudged him, took a nip at his shirt sleeve.  No reaction.  Finally she'd had it.  Her ears went back and flattened against her neck, her teeth bared and she swung her head around and bit him—hard—on the fleshy part of his upper arm.  Not enough to break the skin, but enough to give him a nasty bruise.  
 “Hey!”  Heyes stepped back startled, and gave her a smack on the rump with the brush.  “What was that for?”  
 Karma rolled her eyes, tossed her head and began to paw the floor boards with her front hoof.  
 “What are you—coming into season again?”  Heyes grumbled.  “Geesh, Kid's right.  You can be a real bitch sometimes.”  
 Karma snorted and stared defiantly back at him.  
 “Alright, alright.”  Heyes snarked.  “Just for that, I'm done brushing you.  You can go to bed tonight with dried sweat all over your back—how do ya' like that?”  
 Karma snorted again and went back to pawing the boards.  Heyes shook his head and pulling the lead shank free he led the mare outside and towards the pasture gate.  
 “Whoa,” Heyes gave her a quick jerk on the halter.  “There's no call to be running me over!  What's gotten into you!?”  
 Karma side-stepped and pranced at an angle all the way to the pasture gate, Heyes shaking his head and grumbling the whole distance.  It didn't occurred to him until later that his mare was simply picking up on his own mood and if he had just settled himself, then she probably would have done the same. As it was he opened the pasture gate, slipped the halter off her head and gave her a sharp slap on the bum as she charged past him out onto the grass.  
 He closed and latched the gate but then turned and leaning his arms against the top rail, he stopped to watch his mare, wondering what had gotten into her.  Usually she would stop and give him a nuzzle goodbye before trotting off to graze, but not tonight.  Even without the slap, she was mad at him and in no mood to play nice.  
 Daisy came over to greet her mother, but Karma laid her ears back and the golden filly wisely decided that now was not the time.  Karma dropped down to a walk and with head down and tail swishing she headed straight over to the favoured patch of dirt and began to paw it.  She stuck her nose into the dry dustiness, her upper lip making tracks as she walked around in a circle like a dog, trying to find the softest patch.  She snorted, pawed the ground one more time and then slowly her knees and hocks began to bend as she carefully lowered herself down.  
 Her knees hit dirt first, then her shoulder and her barrel came down quickly followed by her haunches.  She stretched out her neck, contentedly rubbing the side of her face in the dirt before she rolled onto her side and she began rubbing in earnest.  She got that side of her body totally covered in dirt, sending clouds of dust billowing into the air, nearly obscuring her from sight.  She heaved and with legs kicking and pawing at the air she balanced herself on her back and rubbed some more.  
 Snorting with pleasure she came back over onto her side, sat up for an instant, went down again and with more kicking and dust billowing she heaved herself over onto her other side.  With much rubbing and grunting and snorting and not to mention more dust in the air, she got her whole body covered in dirt until finally she was satisfied.  Front legs stretched out in front of her and with a huge push off her hind legs, she heaved herself up onto her feet again.  
 She stood there with legs splayed and gave her body a vigorous shaking then snorted, swishing her tail as the dust settled down around her.  She sent her human a self-satisfied look as though to say; 'See?  I'm quite capable of getting the sweat off my own body—I don't need you.'  Then she tossed her head one more time and walked off to join her daughter over at that nice patch of grass.  
 Heyes chuckled and shook his own head, only this time it was with humour rather than irritation.  It had taken some doing this time, but finally Karma had once again brought him up out of his foul musings.  The quieter mood didn't last long though;  he sighed and rested his chin on his arms that were still crossed along the top rail of the gate.  He still had that task ahead of him and he still didn't want to do it.  He probably would have stayed there all evening, leaning on the gate and watching the horses if it hadn't been for the beckoning from the front porch.  
 "Hey Heyes!”  Kid called to him.  “About time you got back.  How's Randa doing?”  
 Heyes pushed himself off the gate and smiled over at his partner.  Jed's smile disappeared and was replaced with a look of concern.  Dammit!  He never could fool his cousin—why did he even bother trying?  
 “What's the matter?”  Jed asked him as Heyes approached the porch.  “Is Miranda worse?”  
 “No, actually she's doing much better.”  
 “Oh.”  Kid creased his brow.  “Well that's good isn't it?”  
 “Yeah, that's good.”  
 “Well what in tarnation's the matter then?”  Jed was getting worried.  “What's wrong?”  
 Heyes let loose a sigh as he sat down on one of the porch chairs.  “Is Beth around?”  
 “Yeah,”  Jed answered suspiciously as he too sat down.  “She's in doin' what she can to help Belle get dinner.  She's still not real strong, but you know how she is; she still wants to help where she can.”  
 “Yeah, that's good,”  Heyes commented.  “It's good she keeps busy.”  
 “Heyes, will you just spit it out!”  Jed was getting frustrated.  “What's wrong?”  
 “Well,”  Heyes began, not looking Jed in the eye.  “we've found out what was going on.  Someone was definitely poisoning Randa, and had deliberately poisoned all those other people as well, in order to cover it up.”  
 “Really?”  Jed thought he should be relieved at this news, but Heyes' expression still suggested otherwise.  “Was it because of the vendetta?  Because of us?”  
 Heyes bit his lower lip and then nodded.  “Yup.”  
 “Oh, jeez!”  Jed sat back and ran a hand through his curls.  “Well, were you able to stop it?  Do you at least know who was doing it?”  
 “Yup.”  Heyes nodded again.  
 “Well that's great!”  Kid sat up again, smiling.  “So Jacobs arrested him?  He's in custody?”  
 “Nope.”  
 Jed's smile turned to a frown.  “Jeez Heyes—most of the time I can't get ya' ta' shuddup.  Now I'm needin' a pry bar just to get ya' to spit it out!  If ya' know who it is, then why ain't he in custody?”  
 “For one thing, it wasn't a 'he' it was a 'she'.”  
 “A she!?”  
 “Yeah.”  
 “Aw no, you're not gonna tell me it was Elise!”  Kid groaned.  “Not after the way she saved J.J. and all...”  
 "No, it wasn't Elise.”  
 “Bamforth's mother?”  Jed sounded incredulous with that suggestion.  
 Heyes smiled a little sardonically.  “No, it wasn't Bamforth's mother.  Actually Mrs. Bamforth is ...well, Mrs. Bamforth.”  
 Jed sat and stared at his cousin for a few seconds.  He hated it when Heyes started talking in circles like this.  For one thing it was a sure sign that Heyes didn't want to say what he was going to come out and say eventually anyways—so why couldn't he just hurry up and say it!?  
 The curly haired one sighed and slumped back into his chair.  “Heyes why don't you just come out and say what you mean alright?  Dinner's almost ready and I would like to eat sometime tonight.”  
 “Well, we were actually correct in our suspicions that Bamforth's mother was actually Elise in disguise.”  Heyes informed him.  
 “Yeah, alright.”  Jed accepted that.  “so there wasn't a Mrs. Bamforth.”  
 “No, actually there was—and still is,”  Heyes continued.  “Apparently Elise and Valentine Bamforth are husband and wife.”  
 “What!?”  Kid was almost up in arms.  “She's married to that no good...”  
 “Well actually, he's not no good,”  Heyes countered.  “Apparently Abi knows Elise and Abi sent her here to keep an eye on Beth, you know; covertly.”  
 “Oh.  Yeah, okay.”  
 “And Amy's in-laws sent Bamforth to keep an eye on Amy.”  
 “Really?”  Jed was surprised.  “So they knew that Amy was going to be targeted too, even before that cabinet got pushed over onto her?”  
 “No,”  Heyes continued.  “It was because they suspected Amy of poisoning her husband in order to get out of an abusive relationship.  They were certain that Amy had gotten away with murder and they sent Bamforth to watch her in order to prove it.  And they were right, because it turns out that Amy was the one who was poisoning Miranda.”  
 Jed's jaw dropped.  “You're kidding?  But...how...?”  
 “Those damn teas!”  Jed jumped with the vehemence in Heyes' voice.  “She poisoned the whole damn town Kid.  She's a cold-blooded, calculated murderer.  And I didn't even see it.  And because I didn't see it, she got away!”  
 “I just don't get it,” Kid admitted.  “I mean, what about that cabinet fallin' on her?  I thought Jacobs was certain that was a deliberate act.”  
 “Yeah, it was,”  Heyes agreed.  “but he figures now that Amy did it to herself to divert suspicion.”  
 “Oh come on,” Jed was incredulous.  “That cabinet nearly killed her!  She wouldn't do...”  
 Heyes held up his hand to stop the protests.  “No, no, now she didn't intend that to happen,” he explained.  “I don't think she realized how heavy that cabinet was.  She was willing to accept some bruises and maybe a broken wrist but...that must have given her quite a fright when she realized her misjudgement.”  
 Kid just shook his head, all this feeling like it was just too much.  “But why Heyes?”  he asked.  “We didn't know her before she came to town, why would she be out to punish us?”  
 “Her sister is Joan Bains.”  
 Silence hit the front porch like a ton of alfalfa.  
 “Aw jeez,”  Jed finally choked out.  “I just can't believe it.  That sweet, charming...and she's the one behind all those poisonings, and Miranda...?”  
 Heyes nodded.  “There's more Kid.”  
 Jed felt a chill go through him.  “What?”  he asked dangerously.  
 “Amy learned from her mother how to mix different blends of teas and herbs in order to create different responses.  Some were healthy and healing, some were relaxing or stimulating...”  
 “Yeah.”  
 “Some were deadly.”  
 “I think we've already determined that Heyes.  What are you getting at?”  
 Heyes took a deep breath and forced himself to look his cousin in the eye.  “She also knew how to mix a blend that would cause a miscarriage during the early stages of a pregnancy.”  
 Heyes saw the colour drain from Jed's face, then he saw it return as a deep red that rose up and took over his blue eyes, turning them to fire and rage.  Then he exploded.  He was on his feet in a flash, pushing the chair back until it crashed into the side of the house.  His fists clenched and his whole face contorted into a snarl as he left the porch in one step and headed for the barn.  
 “Kid!”  Heyes called after him.  “Kid, wait...”  
 Heyes came off the porch as well and ran after his partner.  He caught up to him half way to the barn and grabbed his shoulder.  
 “Kid. wait...”  
 Jed turned on him with a snarl and pushed his hand away then continued on to the barn.  Heyes took an involuntary step back when he was faced with the Kid's volatile anger.  Pain and rage filled his eyes and Heyes thought for an instant that the Kid was going to strike him.  It took him a moment to collect his bearings again and continue on after his cousin and into the barn.  
 Heyes stepped inside the structure and could see Jed at the far end of the alcove, his hands clutching at his curls while he paced back and forth in an angry haze.  
 “Kid...”  Heyes repeated quietly.  “I know you're angry.  I understand that...”  
 “ANGRY!?”  Jed snarled at him.  “That WOMAN!  She murdered...our child!  And you let her get away!?”  
 “Kid, please...”  
 Jed turned and came at him, his eyes burning.  Heyes barely had time to take a step back before Jed  grabbed him by the shirt front and had him pushed up against the wall of the barn.  
 “YOU LET HER GET AWAY!”  
 “Kid, I'm sorry...”  
 Jed started to shake him, repeatedly banging him into the wall and Heyes made no effort to stop him.  
 “SHE MURDERED OUR CHILD!”  Jed yelled at him, but then his voice caught and he stopped shaking his cousin.  “She murdered our...child...”  
 Jed clutched at Heyes' shirt even tighter but not in anger now, but in pure undiluted agony.  He fought hard against the tears but they came anyway and he buried his face in his cousin's shirt as the uncontrolled sobs racked his body.  Heyes felt his own throat burning as he blinked out his own tears.  He hugged his best friend close to him—held him tight and didn't let go.  
 “I'm sorry Jed,”  he whispered.  “I'm so sorry...”  
   
 Beth twisted her handkerchief in her hands, her cheeks alight with tears.  David had broken the rule of a lifetime and allowed her husband to be part of the consultation.  This was for both patients after all, and a unique situation.  Jed had said very little, simply leaning against the wall with his head down and his hand at his chin.  He played distractedly with his bottom lip as David pressed home his message, seeking confirmation of understanding.  “I’m so sorry, Beth, but this was a one-off tragedy.  If you can take anything from this it should be that there was nothing wrong with you and there is every reason to think you will go on to have healthy, happy, bonny babies.”  
The young woman just sat there; too wrung out to emote and too tired to respond.  
Hester removed her glasses and polished them on a scarlet handkerchief with a flourish, but kept her eyes fixed on the patient at all times.  
“Beth?” David reached out a hand and grasped hers.  “What are you thinking?  Tell me?”  
Beth took a great gulp of despair.  “How?”  
Hester pursed her lips.  “How?  What do you mean, my darling?  Tell me so we can help you,” she murmured.  
Jed raised his eyes to stare at Hester.  In all these years he’d never seen the softer, maternal side to this warrior of a woman and it caught him pleasantly by surprise.  
“How?”  Beth shook her head hopelessly.   
“You carry on.  You live, love and laugh.  You immerse yourself in everything that woman tried to take from you,” Hester paused, “but first you grieve.  You cry, scream, rage; anything you need to do to work through this.  You have a loving husband and wonderful family to support you.  They will see you through.”  
“I can’t think about another baby.”  Beth darted a glance at her husband.  “I...”  
The Kid pushed himself off the wall and strode over to his wife.  “Ya don’t have to, darlin’.”  He dropped a soft arm around her shoulder.  “Ya don’t have to think about anythin’.  Just let it be and life has a way of knittin’ things back up again.”  
Beth’s only reply was a rasping sob.  The Kid cast impotent eyes at the doctors.  Losing a baby was one thing, but having that child ripped from your life because somebody hates your husband was another thing entirely.  He was eaten up by guilt and rage, debilitated by his inability to do anything to help his love.  
“I have met a woman in your situation before,” Hester ventured.  “Well, not exactly the same situation.  Her husband had a lover who was not happy when his wife became pregnant and decided to dispose of the threat.  That poor woman was bereft and then she found she was unable to trust her husband anymore.”  
“Is that supposed to help?” Jed snapped.  
“Actually, yes.”  Hester returned to her businesslike manner.  “Beth has so much more.  There is a firm base on which to build.”  
“My baby was murdered.  How does anyone move on from that?”  
“How indeed?”  Hester’s keen eyes burned into the young woman.  “If only you knew somebody who’d been through that too?”  
“Abi?”  
“I suppose you could write to her, but I was actually thinking of Hannibal.  He has made his fair share of mistakes, but I’m sure he loves you enough to help and guide you around those pitfalls.”  Hester smiled softly.  “Doesn’t that mean that little Becky’s murder was not completely in vain, if some good can come of it?  Make no mistake, my dear; this was a vile destructive act, but after time in loving, giving hands you can use this to help people.  Eventually; but not yet.  Right now, you need love - so much love, it will neutralize the evil.”  
Beth’s shoulders drooped.  “How could she be so cruel?”  
“Yes.”  Hester sat back, her bust bolstering the extravagantly embroidered waistcoat she wore over her collar and tie.  “That is beyond me too.  I have seen a lot of cruelty, but this is a new twist.”  
“People survive cruelty,” David murmured.  “Look at your husband, you’ll get over this.  The human mind has a great capacity to recover.”  
“I don’t want to get over it!” Beth cried.  “That will mean forgetting my baby.”  
“We’ll never forget, Beth.  She’ll always be the first,” Jed crouched down taking his wife’s hand.  “She’ll always be our baby.”  
“She?” Beth sniffed.  
“I think of her as a girl,” Jed shrugged.  “Lookin’ just like her ma.”  
“A girl?”  
“Yeah.”  
Beth raised haunted eyes.  “We don’t even have a grave.”  
Hester sat back nodding.  “When Becky was killed we planted a tree.  They gave us permission to plant it on the spot where she was murdered, so we chose one.  It’s growing tall and proud.  It will be the biggest tree in the park.  I like to think of something living there; probably for hundreds of years after the rest of us are gone.  The name of Rebecca Heyes will certainly be remembered.  We put a plaque on it as a permanent memorial.”  
“A tree?”  
Hester smiled.  “Not just any tree.  A sequoia.  A giant redwood.  I think they thought we’d choose something decorative and feminine like cherry blossom.  We went to see it on the tenth anniversary of her death.  It was almost thirty feet tall and the trunk was about twenty inches thick.  We cried, we laughed and we remembered; it was so wonderful to think of that shaft of life reaching to the heavens and knowing it would be there as a scream against the darkness until time immemorial.  A hundred years from now it will be nearly seventy feet tall.”  Hester’s eyes misted over.  “Not that I’ll ever see it, but Becky’s nieces and nephews might.  I like that idea.”   
“A tree,” Beth whispered.  
Jed’s eyes gleamed.  “You like that, darlin’?  We can plant one.  The biggest in the county if you want.”  
“Big?”  Beth shook her head firmly.  “No.  Something else.  Something that bears fruit.”  
David shot Hester a wry smile.  “There’s a peach tree called ‘Reliance.’  It does well in a climate like this.  I was thinking of getting one for our garden.”  
“A peach tree?”  Beth’s brow wrinkled.  “Yes, I like that.”  She nodded.  “Reliance... that is a good name.”  
“Let people be kind to you,” David smiled at the young couple.  “Some of the things they’ll say will make you want to laugh out loud, but they’ll mean well.  They’ll wrap themselves around you like a blanket and before you know it, the pain will lessen.”  
“I guess,” Beth murmured.  “Life goes on.”  
“Yes,” David smiled, gently.  “I can promise you that time is a healer, Beth.  The one thing I’ve learned about life is that it never lets up.”  They all paused to listen to the child battering up and down the hallway, making clopping noises and ‘peyungs’ as he pretended to fire his wooden gun at imaginary baddies.  “Never,” he murmured, “and that’s both your objective and your hope.”            
   
“Momma....”  
 Belle put her darning down and sent loving eyes up to her daughter.  “Hello, Sweetheart.  Are you alright?”  
 Beth's face instantly contorted as she fought tears. “No!”  
 Belle's heart broke as she opened up her arms, encouraging her daughter to come to her.  “Ohh, baby...come...”  
 Beth fell apart as the tears came forth and she fell to her knees in front of where her mother was sitting and collapsed into her embrace.  
 “Oh Momma..what's wrong with me!?”  
 Belle hugged her close and rocked her as she would a child.  “Wrong with you?”  She asked with a hint of incredulity.  “Why would there be anything wrong with you?”  
 “I just...”  Beth sobbed, finding it hard to explain.  “I love Jed so much.”  
 “Of course you do,”  her mother agreed.  “What's wrong with that?”  
 Beth sniffed.  “I want to give him what he expects...I want to be a good wife.  But ever since....I just can't.  He's being so patient but it's not right.  I love him so much, why don't I want him?  What's wrong with me?”  
 Belle smiled sadly, continuing to rock her.  “Aww, sweetheart.  There's nothing wrong with you.”  The mother assured the daughter.  “It's heartbreaking to loose a child, even when it's that early in the pregnancy.  And you and Thaddeus wanted this child so much.”  
 Beth nodded agreement through her tears.  
 Belle's features hardened just a touch as she thought of how they had all been so cruelly fooled.  “Then to find out that it was a deliberate act and by someone whom you thought of as a friend.  I can't imagine that Beth, except to know that you must be feeling a great deal of anger now as well as hurt.  You need to get through that, both of you do.  Give yourselves time sweetheart.  You both love each other, that much is obvious.  Give it time and marital relations will come back when you're both ready.”  
 “I just don't know how to get through this Mama.”  Beth sobbed.  “Hester suggested that we plant a tree in memory of our daughter and I do want to do that.  A peach tree in the front yard of our new home.”  
 “Daughter?”  Belle asked.  
 Beth sniffed again.  “Yes.  Jed said he felt this child was a girl.”  She started to sob again.  “A little girl...!”  
 “Aww, sweetheart.”  Belle hugged her close and stroked her long blond hair.  “I know.  I think Hester is right; that's a good idea.”  
 “But we can't do that until the house is built and I just don't know what to do!”  Beth admitted.  “I'm so angry, and I know Jed is too.  I just don't see how to get passed this.  How do I stop being so angry? I feel like I'm letting my husband down, that I should be helping him to heal, that I should be loving him and doing what I can to give him a child.  He wants children so much!”  
 “But so do you,”  Belle pointed out.  “Thaddeus isn't expecting anything from you so soon, is he?”  
 “No,” Beth admitted.  “He's hasn't tried anything.  He's being very patient and supportive.”  
 “Well that's good,”  Belle assured her.  “You both need time to heal after this.”  
 “But what if he doesn't want me anymore?”  Beth sounded almost panicked.  “What if he's angry because I can't try for another...”  
 “Oh Beth.”  Belle was gently incredulous.  “He's angry, yes.  Just as you're angry.  But you can't think that he's angry at you.  He loves you.  You both just need time.”  
 “I just don't know how,”  Beth insisted.  “Hester suggested I talk to Hannibal about it, since he's been through this.  It was so sad finding out about his daughter but I had no idea how painful it is!  I had no idea.  No wonder Abi killed her daughter's murderer!”  Beth became very angry now, her fists clenching at her mother's shirts.  “If I could find Amy, I'd make her pay for what she did...!”  
 “Shhhh.”  Belle tried to calm her.  “That's not the way.  Getting revenge won't change anything.  I can understand you feeling that way, but the law is on to her now.  She'll be caught sooner or later.  You need to focus on getting better.  Why don't you talk to Joshua?  You trust him don't you?”  
 “Yes.  Of course.”  
 “Well.”  Belle nodded wisely.  “You talk to him.  Hester is right; he's already been through all of this.  Let him help you find your way.”  
   
Heyes trotted Karma over to the first barn at the end of a long, hot, tiring day.  Jesse had sent him off to check fences and watering holes so he had put in quite a few miles since sun-up and mended a number of fences as well.  At least the watering holes were still holding some moisture for the thirsty herds and it wouldn't be too much longer now before the autumn rains began to replenish them again.  
 Both horse and human gave a sigh of relief at pulling up outside the barn.  They were so dusty that there was hardly any distinguishing between the two of them until Heyes swung a leg over and stiffly dismounted.  Karma bowed her head and snorted and Heyes gave her a pat on the neck.  
 “Back to working for a living, ain't we?”  he commented to her.  
 Karma lowered her head and gave her body a thorough shaking, causing the stirrups to flap noisily and dust to fly in all directions.  Heyes waved a hand in front of his face, coughing with the irritation in his throat when he inadvertently breathed  in the gritty air.  
 “Thanks a lot,” he mumbled as he lead her into the barn.  
 Karma snorted again and willingly followed him.  
 The barn felt cool and refreshing compared to the outside temperatures and the deeper shadows gave some relief from the hot summer glare.  It smelled of hay and dust and horses, even though Karma was the only horse in there at the moment.    
 He pulled her up to the hitching ring, replaced the bridle with the halter on her head and then pulled the saddle off.  Her back where the saddle and blanket had lain was dark and wet with sweat where as the rest of her body, though hot was so covered in trail dust that she appeared to be a dun rather than a liver chestnut.  Heyes figured he didn't look much better.  
 He took off his hat and slapped it against his legs, sending more dust bellowing into the musty air.  He hung the hat off a hook then undid the thong and the belt buckle of his holster and hung it from a convenient hook as well. Next he undid the leather thongs on the leggings of his chaps and quickly unbuckled the suede riding apparel and hung them over his saddle. His pants were clinging to his legs with the sweat and he sure would be happy to get these boots off too.  
 Oh well, first things first.  He snatched up a bucket and stepping out into the heat again he walked over to the well and drew up enough water to fill the bucket and then headed back into the barn.  A quick search found a sponge, and not caring how dirty it was, he plunged the sponge into the water and brought the dripping handful up onto the top of his head and squeezed.  He closed his eyes and gasped with relief as the cool liquid cascaded down his face and neck.  Dunking the sponge again he squeezed more water against the back of his neck and over his shoulders.  The water ran down, leaving little rivers of moisture in the caked dust on his skin.  His shirt, where is wasn't stuck to his body with sweat, now stuck to it with cool water.  
 Karma looked over at him expectantly and Heyes smiled at her.  
 “Yeah, alright,”  he assured her.  “your turn.”  
 Plunging the sponge into the water again, he began the job of washing down his horse, beginning by giving her the same treatment he had just given himself.  He squeezed the sponge on top of her head so that the water ran down her long face and dripped over her eye brows and down off her nose.  He did that a couple of times until she was thoroughly soaked and she snorted and shook her head to send water droplets flying in every direction.  Heyes smiled and commenced to get his mare thoroughly soaked from pole to croup and from withers to hooves.   By the time he was finished there was no water left in the bucket and both mare and man were dripping.  
 He patted her neck, the slap sounding loud and sloppy against the wet hide.  “There you go.  Feel better?”  
 A loud, sudden clattering broke the silence and Heyes and Karma both jumped out of their wet skins.  Heyes spun around, reaching for his holster, his schofield jumping into his hand has he peered into the dark murkiness of the inner barn.  
 “Who's there?”  Heyes demanded.  “Come out where I can see you!”  
 A small, quiet, almost frightened voice responded.  “Joshua...?”  
 Heyes sighed and relaxed.  Karma blew indignantly.  A slight feminine form stepped out from the shadows and just stood there, looking embarrassed.  
 Heyes slipped his schofield back into it's holster.  “Beth.”  It was a breath of relief.  “Darlin' you shouldn't do that, especially these days when we're still all on edge.”  
 “I'm sorry.”  
  Her voice was so quiet and so filled with sorrow that Heyes instantly felt contrite at the gentle  reprimand.  
 “That's alright,”  he said soothingly, as though to a spooked young horse.  “What are you doing out here?”  
 “I was waiting for you,”  Beth admitted.  
 “Oh.”  Heyes felt a little confused.  “Well, Jed should be back soon.  Wouldn't you rather talk to him?”  
 “No...!”  
 Her voice broke with anguish and Heyes quickly covered the distance between them and took her into his arms.  He held her firmly, but gently, trying to sooth her as her tears came forth and she cried into his shoulder, despite the dampness of his clothing.  He sighed deeply, now realizing in a flash what this was all about and how odd it was that both stricken parents-to-be had ended up with him in this barn, crying on his shoulder.  
 He continued to hold her close, stroking her hair until her sobs gradually began to quieten down and her trembling to ease.  He kissed her on her forehead and gently steered her over to a convenient hay bale.  
 “C'mon, sit down,” he told her.  
 “I'm sorry.”  
 “It's alright,” he assured her and kept an arm around her shoulders as they sat together on the bale.  He gave her a slight squeeze.  “Now, what's all this about that you want to talk to me and not to your husband?”  
 Beth sniffed and ran her hands over her eyes and nose.  Heyes thought to give her his bandana, but then realized that it was so covered in sweat and dust that it would hardly be the gentlemanly thing to do.  So he sat and he waited.  
 “I just don't know what do to,”  Beth finally whispered.  “I've never felt anything like this before and I don't know how to deal with it.  Hester suggested I talk to you because you've been through this and Jed didn't seem to mind if I did, so...is that alright?”  
 Heyes throat had tightened up on him, memories once again flooding his mind's eye.  Memories of screaming and a pram dripping with red, the tiny blood splattered body of his infant daughter, stilled forever in death.  Heyes swallowed down the memories and nodded.  
 “Yes Beth,”  he choked out.  “It's alright.”  
  “Will I ever get over it?”  she asked, almost pleading.  “Will the pain and the anger ever go away?”  
 Heyes' shoulders slumped and he shook his head.  “No,” he told her.  “You just learn how to live with it.  You learn how to store it away in a little corner of your heart so that it no longer over-whelms your every waking moment—your every dream.  You learn how to cope.”  
 “I don't think I'm strong enough!” Beth almost wailed it out.  
 “Yes you are, Beth!”  Heyes insisted.  “You're one of the strongest people I know.  You and Jed both.  You'll get through this—it's just going to take some time.”  
 “That's what everybody says!”  Beth was angry now.  “Time.  I can't remember what it's like to not be hurting!”  She punched the hay bale and stood up, pacing back and forth in front of him, wringing her hands.  “How is time going to make any difference?  I trusted her.  I thought she was a friend.  Now all I can think about is ripping her heart out.  I want her dead for what she took from us!”  
 Heyes gazed up at her, his eyes glistening with painful comprehension.  “I know,”  he whispered and took hold of her hand.  “But it won't help.”  
 Beth looked down at him, tears running down her cheeks.  “She deserves no less.”  
 “I know,”  he repeated.  “But believe me;  Abi...killing our daughter's murderer did not lessen the anguish of losing her.  When Amy is captured and brought to justice it may help you and Jed to find some closure.  But the pain you're feeling at this loss and at the deliberate betrayal of someone you thought you could trust will not diminish because of it.  Only time and friends and family will gradually do that.”  
 “How did you do it?”  she asked him.  “You were alone.”  
 A sad smile flitted across Heyes' features.  “No I wasn't alone.  I had Kid with me. I had a home as such—and family too.  Not the same kind of loving family you have here mind you...”  Beth allowed a ghost of a wet smile to touch her lips until sadness took them over again.  “They weren't much for talking though.  In fact on the most part they stayed away from me during that time.  I suppose they were afraid I would take my rage out on them—and they were probably right.  Kid was the only one who wasn't afraid of me and he stayed pretty close.”  
 “That's sad though,”  Beth commented.  “Was there no one you could talk to?”  
 Heyes gave a big sigh, his thoughts going back in time.  “Preacher,”  he finally answered her.  “I'd have to get drunk enough, but when I did I was able to talk to Preacher about it.”  
 “There was a preacher in your gang?”  Beth sounded incredulous.  
 “Well—sort of.”  Heyes smiled again as he recalled his old friend.  “I think he actually was a preacher at one time but, he took to the drink and couldn't stop.  Then, I suppose the things he ended up doing in order to survive made him drink even more.  But he still had that way about him.  You felt safe with him, that you could tell him your deepest secrets and all would be forgiven.  Sometimes I think the only one he couldn't bring comfort to was himself.”  
 Beth sat back down again, still holding her friend's hand.  “That's sad,”  she said.  “Where is he now?''    
 “Oh, he's dead now,”  Heyes informed her.  “The life of an outlaw...”  
 “I'm sorry,”  She told him and she leaned into him, hugging his arm.  “I'm so glad you and Jed were able to get out of that life.”  
 “Yes.”  Heyes nodded and smiled over at her.  “You feel better now?”  
 “A little bit,” she nodded.  “I'm scared though.  I'm scared about what this is going to do to us.”  
 “You don't need to be afraid of that,”  Heyes assured her.  “If you stick together, you'll see it through and your bond will be that much stronger because of it.  
 “We're going to plant a tree in our child's memory,”  Beth announced out of the blue.  “Hester suggested that too.  She said that Abi did that for Rebecca and that it helped.”  
 “Yes,”  Heyes nodded.  “That's a good idea. Sounds like Hester's been full of good ideas.  Hardly surprising I suppose.  When are you going to do it?”  
 “Well, we want to plant it at our own place, but the house isn't finished yet,”  Beth explained.  “I feel so strongly about doing this, but we have to wait.”  
 “Why?”  Heyes shrugged.  “You have the property and you have the foundation structure laid out.  Why do you have to wait?”  
 “Oh,”  Beth brightened up.  “You're right.  But it's so late in the season.  We should probably wait until next spring.”  
 “Oh I don't know,”  Heyes countered her.  “There's still time.  Why not try?  It probably won't do much until next spring, but by then  you'll be living in your new home and you'll have a young sapling coming to join you..  I think that would be a real nice way for you and Jed to celebrate your new home and to perhaps find some closure in all this as well.”  
 Beth smiled and nodded.  “Yes.  I think we will.”  
 Karma's head went up and she snorted as she looked out to the entrance of the barn.  
 “Sounds like someone's coming,”  Heyes announced.  
 Karma nickered and was instantly answered by Gov as Jed led him into the barn and tied him up beside the mare.  He ducked under the horses' heads and smiled at the couple sitting on the bale of hay.  
 “You realize that's my wife you've got your arm around,”  he cautioned his cousin.  
 “I thought we were partners,”  Heyes protested.  
 “Ha!”  
 Beth smiled and was on her feet and into her husband's arms in an instant.  
 “Oh you two!”  she said.  “Always teasing one another.”  
 “I wasn't teasing,” Heyes insisted.  
 Jed sent him the look and then smiled down at his wife.  “Hey, darlin',” he greeted her, brushing a strand of hair back from her face.  “How ya' feelin' today?”  
 “Better, I think,”  she told him.  “Hannibal suggested that we plant our tree now and not wait until the house is finished.  I think I would like to do that.”  
 Jed kissed her, and holding her in an embrace he smiled over at his cousin.  “Yeah.  I think that's a good idea.”  
    
 “The mail’s here,” Belle called, examining the tube covered in brown paper.  “I think that newspaper you get is here, Hannibal, and a letter too.  Oh, and this looks like Bridget’s handwriting!”  
The family gathered around, ready to hear news from the Grangers, gathering cookies and cups of coffee before settling down to listen.  Jesse hooked on his spectacles and sat at the head of the table, ready to regale the family with the contents.  
'My love to all, but especially my own darlings, Beth and Jed.  How are you since my last letter?  It has now been a month since I last wrote to you.  I do hope that you are beginning to feel stronger and fit enough for a visit.  I think a change of scenery may be just the thing to invigorate you, but I would love to get the chance to coddle you.'  
Jesse paused to glance over at his daughter.  “You should think about that.  It might take you out of yourself.”  
Heyes stood, somehow feeling that he was intruding on a close family moment.  
Jed fixed Heyes with curious blue eyes.  “You’re leaving?”  
Heyes nodded.  “I’ve got mail of my own,” he smiled, warmly.  “Besides, you’ll read it out again after dinner.  You always do.”  
Beth nodded.  “He’s right.  We always treat letters as a real occasion, but he does have his own.  Go and read it, Hannibal,” her face broke into a smile.  “Who knows?  Maybe we’ll have two letters to listen to after dinner?”  
Heyes glanced down at the familiar handwriting on the envelope and tried not to betray his emotions.  “Yeah, who knows?”  
He strolled over to the sitting room and settled on his favourite chair with a sigh, picking idly at the brown paper wrapped around the newspaper and he stared off into space.  Abi’s handwriting.  What did she want?  The sweep of a furry body brushed against his boot.  Heyes glanced down; catching sight of the tip of an erect tail disappearing between his legs before blinking green eyes scanned his lap for a nestling spot.  “You want to come up?”  
“Gnurrr!”  
“Come on, then,” Heyes patted his knee.  The cat leaped up, pushing a sleek head into his palm and rolling it from side to side almost as an instruction on what was required.  He chuckled lightly and scratched behind a pert ear and continued down to the jaw line.  “How’s that?”  
Apparently it measured up to requirements and Mouse circled until she huddled on his lap, toying with the torn edge of the paper.  “You want I should open it?”  Two paws came together grasping at the flap.  “Fine.”  
Heyes slid the newspaper from the protective sleeve and Mouse visibly slumped.  Humans always seemed to prefer these large, paper things to cats, no matter how much extra interest they tried to generate by trying to lie on it or jiggling it up and down.  Experience told Mouse that standing up and trying to obstruct Heyes’ view didn’t work either, so she settled down and thrust her head between his folded legs and stared dejectedly at the floor.  
It was the Murreyville Mercury, the newspaper from Joan Baines home town.  Heyes had taken a leaf from Abi’s book.  She had had the newspapers from Brookswood sent to her so she could find out what was going on around Heyes and the Kid, so it seemed a good way to keep tabs on Joan Baines.  The front page made his eyes widen in surprise.  
   
         Mysterious Death of Local woman  
'The body of a 38 year old local woman has been found in her bed by her husband, Jackson Baines, 64, at their home in the Langley area of Murreyville.  Mrs. Baines had been hale and hearty until her untimely demise and had been last seen doing some shopping by a Mr. Swartz, a local merchant at around 11.30.  Mr. Swartz said, “Mrs. Baines had been a good customer and will be sorely missed by the trading community.  She bought two large wieners and a cabbage for that evening’s meal.  Even though her recent legal troubles have left her living in much reduced circumstances she regularly purchased goods locally.”  
Mrs. Baines had recently been charged with conspiracy to murder, along with her husband and two others.  The trial was due to take place in three weeks time, all legal arguments and appeals having been exhausted.  Doctor Alfred Clarke was reported as saying, “A 38 year old woman was found in her bed by her husband when returned home from work.  We are unable to state what caused the patient’s demise or why she returned to bed after her shopping trip.  Servants no longer live in the house as the Baines could no longer afford to retain them, so we have no witnesses to her last moments.  Mrs. Baines had been in good spirits, vowing to fight the charges.  We can only suppose her heart gave out with the pressure.  It is well known that women are unable to cope with stress for long periods of time and it may be that the weaker, feminine heart gave out under the strain.  An autopsy has been performed and no drugs or obvious cause of death can be established.  This has been recorded as a case of cardiac marasmus.”  
Mr. and Mrs. Baines had no children.  She leaves her husband and a sister, neither of whom have been available for comment.'    
   
Heyes sat back with a frown.  Joan Baines dead? What did this mean?  Did Abi no longer need to hide?  If so, was she coming here?  The long fingers played idly around the velvet ears as he mulled over the possibilities.  Damn it!  Why was his life always so difficult?  He tapped the letter against his fingers before sighing deeply and dragging back the flap of the envelope.  Out tumbled a newspaper cutting and a photograph.   
The card was a picture of his Anya, less formal than the last one and looking slightly older.  Her white dress was bound at the waist by a sash and its length had dropped to mid-calf, as was fitting for a pre-pubescent girl; hemlines descended towards the ankle as girls got older.  It was a bright, happy portrait in which Anya didn’t exactly smile; sure, her lips curled up in a natural repose under the long exposure, but it was the impish, dancing eyes which stared confidently into the lens that lightened the whole mood.  She leaned proudly on a Grecian-style pillar as though surveying her estate and an unbidden smile twitched at his lips.  He turned it over, biting his lip at the precise, childishly careful writing.  'To my Uncle Han.  Lots of love from your little Anya.'   
Heyes leaned back and rested his head on the back of the chair.  The title of ‘uncle’ was a double edged sword; it held him at arm’s length at the same time as allowing him into the periphery of the family, but it denied his access to the very bosom.  Ah, well, it’s more than he had this time last year.  He pulled himself back and unfolded the letter. 

'San Francisco 27th, September 1891   
A charaid Mr. Heyes,  
Please find enclosed a picture of our beautiful daughter.  She is wearing her new summer dress and I think she looks lovely in it.  Don’t you agree?  Her face became quite unfashionably brown after all that time in the California sun.  She simply would not keep a hat on her head.  It was always being caught on trees or being trampled in some escapade.  I would get so exasperated and then I would remember the state that old hat of yours and I’d smile.  Jed told me it got so bad you had to get a new one just before you went for amnesty.  Not the best disguise given that it was still decked out in those silver conchos because you always used the same hatband, but at least it wasn’t as ratty as the old one.  How long did it stay neat, I wonder?  She certainly is her father’s daughter.    
They were such good times and have left me with wonderful memories.  I see her in you all the time and I would be lying if I said that didn’t hurt.       
I have also enclosed a newspaper cutting from the Murreyville Mercury.  As you can see, Joan Baines is now dead.  I wanted you to know that I believe that you can now get on with your life without looking over your shoulder all the time.  The main danger is now gone and her sister is on the run.  I am doing what I can to track her down but she does seem to be putting her own neck before any vendetta, in any case I cannot see her turning up in Brookswood again.  From what I have managed to discover, Joan Baines was the main instigator of the threat to you and your loved ones.  Her sister was happy to go along with that for a price, after all, she had lost her mother too, but she seems to be an expert at self-preservation and puts herself first.  I suppose Joan was more loving in her own twisted way.  I have no doubt Amy will worm her way into some poor man’s affections in order to find a protector.  I have considered the possibility of Amy also acting through others, but as she saw her sister brought down by that course of action I believe the risk is minimal.  
I need you to understand that this next part is very difficult for me to write.  I am going away.  I cannot tell you where I am going but you will never see me again.  I understand that things have moved on in my absence and I am going to do everything I can to give both you and Anya a normal life.  At the moment there is a gaping chasm ahead of me, but I will strike out and build a new life for myself and Anya.  What other option is there?  Life goes on, even if it feels like wading through treacle at times.  
I have been agonising about where to go and what to do, but one thing is clear; your future lies in Brookswood and that will be more secure without your past distracting from your life with Randa.  
I will keep my promise and tell Anya all about you when she is old enough to understand.  
All this has taught us something important.  We both know what a gift we had, so next time around we will fight to hold onto it, but you have already found that out.  Hold onto her, a'ghaol.  I have done what I could to help but now it’s up to you, and you alone.  We have a saying, “Bàthaidh toll beag long mhòr.”  It means a little hole will sink a big ship.  Do not allow the slightest crack to come between you and your future.  This is your best chance, seize it with both hands and do not let it slip away.  
Le gràdh mhoir, le beannachdan agus a h-uile là sona dhuibh 's gun la idir dona dhuibh.  
That means with much love, with blessings and may all your days be happy ones.  You know the words are closer to my heart in my own language.  There will always be a special place for you there.    
   
Abigail.'  
   
 Heyes sat alone in the bar and sipped at his whiskey.  He held the envelope in both hands and a sense of dread swirled in his guts.  Why was he so worried?  He and Abigail were friends now and the last missive had contained a joyful little photograph... and a goodbye; a firm, unyielding farewell.  A letter from Abigail always had a purpose and that was what he found perturbing.  What did she want?  There was something she wasn’t telling him.   
Heyes swirled amber liquid in the shot glass.  What was he missing?  He had re-read the letter time and time again.  He drank deeply of the scintillating liquid, his eyes echoing the darkness outside.  Tonight the Jordans would be enjoying the Saturday night meal before a day of rest and they would then gather to hear Bridget’s letter again before examining every detail.  Of course Beth would take up the invitation to visit her sister; and well she should.  Life, love and laughter was the cure to what ailed her.  For Heyes it was the opposite; he needed to be left alone, retreating to process the unexpected wave of information.  
He pulled out the newspaper cutting and re-read it, his mouth firming at the stupidity of it all; the pain and anguish, not to mention the waste of all that life.  Nobody was safe, especially when people like Harris were unleashed on a world full of innocent women and children.  
It was difficult to feel sorry for the death of this twisted, damaged woman, but at least she managed to die peacefully in her bed of natural causes.  It seemed a fitting closure to the vendetta; there can be no revenge against slipping quietly away.  
Heyes tossed back his drink and stood, the chair legs scraping against the floorboards.  He was fairly sure why Abigail was going away; neither of them could take another parting and Amy was still out there, after all.  It was a poisonous legacy to leave a child, a choice between a vendetta or a life on the run.  Abi was right.  There was also no way to lie to a child as bright as his daughter now she was nearly in her teens; if he was around she would notice the chemistry, the emotional shorthand and the bond between him and her mother, forcing Abigail to break the news before the child was emotionally able to handle the truth of her parentage.      
He stuffed the envelope into his pocket and tossed some coins on the table before heading for the door.  “Goodnight, Bill.”  
“Goodnight, Heyes.  You headin’ home now?”  
“Yeah, I guess.”  
“There’s probably going to be a game later.”  
Heyes shrugged untidily.  “I’m not in the mood.”   
He strode through the bat wing doors into the refreshing cool of the evening.  The clean air washed into his lungs, flushing out the smoke-filled fug from the bar and replacing it with clear, fresh breaths.  He looked up at the acres of stars pricking though the darkness and sighed for the thousandth time.  In a hundred years from now all this would still be here and he’d not even be a memory.  Life was too short for all this strife.  It was time to put all this behind him and live an honest decent life.   
He strolled over to Karma and patted her neck before reaching over towards the hitching rail.  Then it hit him.  Joan Baines’ death.  Abigail had promised that woman she’d kill her if she ever found out that the vendetta was continuing.  She warned her and Abigail usually meant what she said.  He stepped back in surprise.  He’d been so caught up in being told that Abigail was taking Anya away that he’d completely overlooked the obvious and if anyone knew how to murder someone without leaving a trace it was an ex-Pinkerton.  Was that why she’d arranged for paternal custody in case anything ever happened to her?  Was it in case she got caught?   
So that was it... or was it?  Was it simply a tragic incident or had Joan Baines’ brand of evil been stifled.  Was Abigail leaving the country to evade possible charges?  No, he shook his head.  Abi could kill but she was smart enough to make sure nobody could trace it back to her if she did it... if.  Who knew those two letters could make such an enormous word?  
   
The doors to the bar clattered open again and the barman raised his head, his eyebrows arching in surprise.  “Heyes?  I thought you’d gone for the night?”  
“So did I,” came the terse reply.  “I changed my mind.  I need a drink.”  
“Well, that’s what we provide here,” the barman grinned.  “That and great conversation.  Ed and Kurt are arguin’.  You’re a genius so maybe you can settle it?  If toast always lands butter side down and a cat always lands on its feet, what would happen if ya put butter on a cat’s back?  How would it land?”  Bill looked into the dismissive, dark eyes and shrugged.  “Nah, I guess it’s not worth tryin’.  It’s a waste of butter.”  
“Leave the bottle,” Heyes growled.  
“Are you alright?” Bill asked, recognizing shades of the angry man who had surfaced before.  
“I just got news that someone died,” Heyes muttered.  “I was going to go home, but I stabled Karma instead.  I’ll take a hotel room.”  
“Aw, gee. That’s real sad,” nodded Bill, sympathetically.  
“Maybe, maybe not,” Heyes muttered under his breath as he wandered over to the table in the corner.  “It all depends on whether their killer will ever be caught.”   
   
The silver fingers of dawn crept under the curtains of the hotel room, casting light on the bleary, bloodshot eyes of the sleepless man staring at the ceiling.  Heyes shifted and crossed his legs at the ankles and sighed heavily.  Abigail MacKinnon alias Stewart – and that was her real name too.  She had told him that Scottish women never lose their maiden names; legally their married names are only ever an alias.  If their names were read out in a Scottish court they would be identified by their maiden names followed by the married names labelled as an alias in order of respective marriages.   
 What a country that must be, where that is allowed to happen, no wonder the women were so peculiarly pertinacious.  The whole family had aliases of their own; mother, father and daughter; so there was a unique family connection.  There was another link too; Abigail was a plotter just like him.  He could never know if she’d given him paternal rights all those months ago in case she’d been caught in the act, or whether it was just normal parental planning, but one thing was for sure; Abigail didn’t leave loose ends.      
Did Abigail kill Joan Baines or had she died of natural causes?  More to the point why did the question bother him so much?  Heyes had quickly dismissed the reasoning that the murder of a woman was disconcerting.  He was an egalitarian in so many ways, treating women who challenged him with the same intrigued playfulness as he did any man who did the same, but he stayed within boundaries set for him at an early age.  Surely it was right that a murderous woman be dealt with by another woman, especially if it was to prevent more deaths?      
This whole thing had been a vortex of vengeance right from his early childhood and the raid on their place, culminating in the loss of Jed and Beth’s baby.  So many ruined lives, shattered dreams and lost loves.  Heyes sighed heavily.  He did love Abigail, but she was right for the man he had been, not the man he had become.  He was tired of fighting, scheming and running.  A life of settled domesticity beckoned and that now seemed like an island of peace and bliss amongst the debris of a life seized at gunpoint or won by stealth.  
He sat up and dangled his legs over the side before reaching for the chamber pot.  A new day beckoned and he’d paid for this room until noon.  He should try to get some sleep and then go and see Randa.  She was his future, but he couldn’t tell her that in a cloud of last night’s whiskey and nightmares.  
He should sleep, then wash, shave and eat so Randa saw the civilized man he had become.  A smile played around his lips.  He could dream of all those wild times and in that land of illusion he could be that outlaw again.  Abigail could be there, but maybe, if he dreamed the right dreams, she would end up having a happy, peaceful life too.     
                
It was early Sunday morning but even so, all the basic chores were done around the barn yard.  Sam was up at the line cabin with Deke preparing to round up and then break out the two year old colts.  They would be heading off to auction come Fall so it was going to be a very busy and boisterous two weeks for the wranglers to get the half-wild youngsters ready.    
 After that it would be time for the round up of the cattle, another two weeks of hard, dirty work.  Not only did the new calves have to be temporarily separated from their mothers in order to be branded, but the yearling bulls also had to be castrated.  Then the two year old steers would be segregated and herded off in a group to the rail heads in order to be transported to market.  The days of the long drawn out trail drives were coming to an end but somehow the work didn't seem to get much easier.    
 Jesse always hired extra hands during this time and never expected Heyes or Jed to become too involved with the rounding up or the breaking out.  That was a job for young men and the two ex-outlaws were not exactly spring chickens anymore.  Jesse also knew in his heart that neither his new son-in-law or his cousin were natural-born ranchers.  Jed had filled in that job when he had to, as a way to earn his keep and still be able to focus on his main goal—getting his partner out of prison.  And Hannibal?  Well Hannibal was happier sitting around a poker table than a branding fire so Jesse saw no point in pushing it.  
 It was still a busy time of year though and pretty soon even their Sundays were going to be busy getting the ranch ready to support itself through another winter.  Everyone in the Jordan household was determined to make the most of the beautiful day that had been given to them and everyone, including Jesse were dressed in their 'going to town' duds.  
 Heyes was still in his room while Jesse and Jed were outside getting particular horses either tacked up or harnessed up in anticipation of the trip to town.  Hannibal could hear them talking out in the yard but he was distracted, his mind on something else.  He stood quietly in front of his dresser for a few moments before pulling the top drawer open and slipping his hand underneath the clothing that was there.  He carefully pulled out a photograph and again stood still as stone and quietly gazed upon the image.  
 Finally a soft smile played up the corners of his mouth and he brought the photo up to his lips and he gently kissed the facsimile of the woman's face.  
 “Goodbye Abi,”  he whispered softly to the picture.  “I know you want me to get on with my life and I suppose it's time I did that.  I won't tell you to look after our daughter because I know you already are.  It's what you've always done—far more than I have.  But one thing I do ask is that you don't let her forget me.  I know you promised to tell her as soon as she was old enough, but I'm so afraid that life will move on and things will change and that maybe you'll think it's easier if she doesn't know. But I'm begging you now Abi; please don't just let this go—don't let her forget me.  
 “I'll always love you, you know that.  But finally, I think I can honestly say to you that I hope you can find love again as I have done.  I'd hate to think of you spending your life alone.  Oh, I know you have Anya but that's not the same thing as finding someone to have and to hold.  I want you to find love again Abi, I really do.  You're a beautiful woman and you deserve it.”  
 Knock, knock, knock!  
 “C'mon. Heyes!”  Jed's voice echoed from the other side of the door.  “Everybody's ready to go!”  
 “Yeah, be there in a minute.”  
 He heard Jed walk away and he smiled down at the photograph as he gently brushed his thumb across the image in a loving caress.  
 “Goodbye Abi.  Until we meet again.... somewhere.”  
 He tucked the photo back into the drawer where it nestled in amongst his other keepsakes.  The picture of Anya that Abi had sent him in prison—the one that had saved his life.  It was there along with the other letters that Abi had sent him while he was incarcerated.  Added to those was the letter from his daughter and the post card describing in youthful delight all the wonders that she was seeing.  And then that other letter from Abi telling him not to get in touch.  Telling him to let them go and get on with his life; the one that broke his heart every time he saw it yet could not bring himself to burn or tear it up.  
 Now he was glad that he hadn't done any of those things because bit by bit, the pain it caused him was beginning to lessen.  More and more it was becoming simply a valued keepsake, something that was of her that she had given to him and he would cherish it.  He slipped the photo back into the drawer and slid it shut.  
 He sighed deeply and smiled a big dimpled grin.  Those people would always be apart of who he was and they would stay with him for the rest of his life but he was ready now, ready to move on.  He gave another sigh and picking up his hat from the bed he strode out of the room and carried on out to the yard to meet up with the family that was waiting for him.

Belle and Beth were sitting in the surrey and J.J got to sit up front with his Papa, who was holding the lines.  This was a treat that made going to Sunday services almost worthwhile. Jed was mounted up on Gov and holding onto Karma while they all waited patiently for Heyes to get a move on.  
 “About time,” Jed griped as he handed his cousin the reins to his horse.  “What were ya' doin' in there?”  
 Heyes grinned as he mounted up.  “Just saying 'goodbye' to some ghosts.”  
 “Oh yeah?”  
 “Hmm.  I think it's about time to start doing that.”  
 Jed smiled as the family headed out.  “Yeah.  It is.  You sure you don't want to come to services with us this morning?  Might do ya' some good.”  
 Heyes smiled over at his cousin.  “No, not this time. Kid.  Nothing against Reverend Sykes but after listening to Dr. Slosson's sermons I'm afraid Mr. Sykes tends to put me to sleep.”  
 Jed laughed.  “Yeah, you're right!  I don't mind goin' though.  Beth likes me to come with them when I'm not too busy with work and all...”  he shrugged.  “...so, why not?”  
 “Yeah, that's good, Kid,”  Heyes assured him.  “But I'll come another time.  I have something else I want to do today.  Don't you worry about leaving me on my own.  Although, if all goes well, perhaps I'll meet you over at the cafe for lunch, after services.”  
 “Yeah.”  Jed nodded, then pushed Gov up beside the surrey.  “Is that alright with you folks?  We meet up with Heyes for lunch after services?”  
Beth smiled.  “Of course!  I thought we were planning on that anyways.”  
 “Oh.”  Heyes grinned.  “I guess that's settled then.”  
 “But what are you up to this morning, Joshua?”  Belle asked him.  “Is it really so important that you'll miss services?”  
 Heyes' grin broadened even more.  “Yeah,” he emphasized.  “I do believe it is.”  
 “You're not going to play poker are you?”  Belle's tone became stern.  
 “No ma'am,”  Heyes assured her.  “I'm not going to play poker—although there is a pretty good game going on Sunday mornings...”  
 “Heyes!”  
 “Aw, Kid, I'm just teasing!”  Heyes confessed.  “I won't play poker on the sabbath now.  I know there are certain ladies present who would not appreciate it.”  
   
 The group were soon pulling up to the hitching rails around the church yard and Jesse manoeuvred Monty over into a spot that seemed to be just waiting for them.  Jed came in beside the rig, dismounted and began to tie off the two horses while J.J. hopped down to play in the dirt and Jesse helped his wife to step down from the vehicle.  Jed then came around to assist Beth who had quite intentionally waited for her husband to come and do just that.  
Heyes was pleased to see that the newlyweds were recovering from their earlier ordeal.  Beth still looked a little pale and sad sometimes, but she was rallying and her happy laughter was being heard more and more often now as the pain from their loss was slowly dissipating.  Jed still tended to get angry sometimes at the deliberate maliciousness of that act and Heyes suspected that was one of the reasons he felt the need to attend services again.  That was fine.  Sometimes a little helping hand was all you needed to get through a tough time.  
 Heyes smiled down at the group as they got organized.  “I'll see you folks later,”  he told them as he tipped his hat and turning Karma's head towards the livery, he pushed her into a lope and departed.  
 “I wonder what he's up to,”  Belle commented as she watched him ride away.  “He's being awfully secretive.”  
 “That's pretty normal for Heyes,”  Jed assured them as he took Beth's arm and headed her towards the church steps.  “I wouldn't worry about him.”  
 “He'll probably tell us all about it over lunch,”  Jesse predicted.  “He does appear to be a man on a mission.”  
 “Hello everyone!”  Tricia's voice caught their attention.  
 J.J. instantly perked up.  “Can me and Nathan go play?”  
 “Now J.J., you know it's time for services,”  his mother reminded him.  “You two can play later.”  
 “Aww...”  
 Jed grinned at the young man's disappointment, remembering his own reluctance as a youngster to having to spend a warm summer morning inside a boring church rather than being outside getting up to antics with his older cousin.  
 Jesse smiled as well, but stepped in to play his part.  “Mind your manners young man,”  he told his son.  “A couple of hours of church service isn't going to hurt you.”  
 “Yes Papa,”  came the reluctant acceptance while he and Nathan exchanged disappointed glances.  
 “Oh, hello.  Tricia, David.”  Belle finally got the chance to return their friends' greeting.  “Weren't sure if you were going to make it today.”  
 “Everything seems to have quieted down after the big mystery got settled,”  David commented.  “I can't remember a week that's been slower than this one.”  
 “Well that's good!”  Belle pointed out.  “Nobody's sick.”  
 “Yes.  That's what has me worried,”  David admitted.  “The calm before the storm.”  
 Tricia laughed and patted her husband's arm.  “Why can't you see it as the calm after the storm?”  she asked him.  “At least now you've had a chance to catch up on your sleep!”  
 “That is a plus,”  David agreed with a smile.  
 “Where's Miranda?”  Beth asked.  “She usually comes to services.”  
 Tricia and David smiled at each other and Tricia shrugged.  
 “Apparently she has other plans for this morning,”  she explained with a twinkle in her eye.  “Said she would probably meet us all later for lunch.”  
 This comment was met with raised eyebrows and then as a group they all looked in the direction that Heyes had disappeared in, riding towards the livery stable.  
   
 Half an hour later Heyes trotted along the dusty street with Percy in tow.  The gray gelding was feeling good and eager for a ride and Heyes smiled as he trotted smartly along beside the big mare.  Within a few moments they were pulling up in front of Miranda's front steps and Miranda herself was sitting on the porch, looking very much ready for a morning ride.  
 "It's about time you got here,”  she reprimanded her escort.  “I've been waiting here for at least five minutes.  That's not a good start you know—keeping a lady waiting!”  
 "Ho ho!”  Heyes laughed as he swung down to the ground.  “I'm right on time.  It's not my fault you decided to be early.”  
 Randa smiled as she came down the steps.  Heyes' expression softened as he looked into her dark eyes and he brushed a strand of hair back from her brow.  
 “Are you sure you're up to this?”  he asked her.  “You've only just come back home again.”  
 “Oh, Hannibal!”  Randa chided him.  “The last little while I was just pretending to be sick, you know that!  I'm about ready to burst from being cooped up for so long.  Besides, we're only going to be gone for a couple of hours.  I told Tricia I would meet them for lunch later.”  
 “Hmm, yes.”  Heyes nodded.  “I pretty much said the same thing.”  
 “Then we're agreed,”  Randa told him.  “C'mon, we're wasting daylight!”  
 “Yes, ma'am.”  
 Heyes came up beside Percy and gave Randa a quick leg up into the saddle.  He then returned to his own mare and the laughing couple headed out of town at a lope.  
   
 “This sure is a nice spot,”  Miranda commented as she leaned back against Heyes' chest.  
Heyes smiled.  “It certainly is.”  
 Miranda chuckled.  “You letch!”  she accused him.  “I was meaning this lovely tree and the meadow!”  
 “So was I!” Heyes lied.  “What were you thinking I meant?”  
 Miranda chuckled again as she snuggled in even more.  Heyes sighed contentedly and brought both his arms around her in a hug.  He kissed her on the back of the head.  
 "I love you, you know,” he whispered to her.  
 “I know,” she assured him.  “I love you too.”  
 “That scared me, more than I want to admit,” he continued.  “And then, Amy...of all people.  She's the last person I would have suspected.  Well—she was the last person!  I just don't get it.  She seemed so...well, so nice!  Jeez, you'd think by now I'd be used to people not being who they claim to be.  I've done it myself.  But Amy?  It's just...”  He trailed off, shaking his head.  He still couldn't quite believe that he had been so duped.  
 “I know,”  Randa agreed.  “I thought she was a friend too.  We all did.  Why would we suspect her when she appeared to be just as much a victim as anybody else?  I can't help but wonder though...”  
 “What?”  Heyes encouraged her.  
 “Was she always...twisted...like that, or was it the abuse she suffered at the hands of her husband that made her that way?”  
 Heyes pursed his lips and sat quietly as he contemplated that question. He remembered back to his time in prison and how he had allowed himself to degrade down to the lowest form of humanity that had been present there.  He didn't like going back to that place, to either the structure itself or to the person he had become in order to survive there.  
 How was that any different to what Amy had gone through?  She had been in a prison of sorts as well; a prison where she'd been the only inmate and her husband being the only guard.  What had she done that was so much worse that what Heyes himself had been willing to do to escape those bonds?  
 He had done things that he realized now he shouldn't have.  Going after Carson and then Mitchell the way he had.  That'd been out of revenge, not justice, he knew that.  He knew it at the time and he didn't care.  He was determined to get them and he did and that was all that mattered to him until he realized how close he had come to sending himself back to prison.  That was the shock he'd needed to wake him up, to bring himself back up to the level of a civilized human being.  
 Amy never received that reality check.  Or maybe she'd had that tendency in her all along and it took an abusive husband to bring it all up to the surface.  Once there, it took control and ran amok. The biggest difference Heyes could see between himself and Amy was that he only sought revenge against those who had inflicted unwarranted abuses onto him and then those close to him.  Whereas Amy had gone after innocents.  Average, everyday people who's only sins were to fall in love with a pair of ex-outlaws, and that is what made her crimes so chilling.  Cold, calculated—premeditated.  
 Both of them had killed, but Amy had it in her blood and she felt no remorse for it.  That, Heyes realized was what made the difference between himself and her.  He was not a killer, but she was; a killer dressed up in a beautiful, likable package and that sent a chill through him as nothing else could have done.  
 “You've gone awfully quiet,” Miranda roused him from his musings.  
 “Oh, sorry.” he apologized.  “Just thinking.”  
 “Yes, I could tell.”  
 Heyes smiled and sighed.  “You could, could you?”  
 “Yes.  Jed's right; you don't think quietly,” she told him.  “You go quiet, but the wheels are grinding.”  
 “Ohh.”  Heyes gave her a gentle squeeze.  “Do you know what I'm thinking now?”  
 Miranda smiled.  She could feel his heart beat quickening through his chest and felt her own pulse responding in kind.  
 “I think you're thinking of getting up to no good,”  she teased him.  
 “Me!?”  Heyes was oozing indignant self-righteousness.  “I would never do...oh well, I suppose I can't really lay claim to that, can I?”  
 “No.”  
 Heyes sighed again.  “I've been thinking.”  
 “Really!” came Randa's mock incredulity.  
 “Yes, really!”  Heyes insisted.  “I've been thinking...”  he repeated.  “...that it's time...I did things...well, the right way...for a change.”  
 “Oh yes?”  Randa leaned back against him even more, her lungs suddenly devoid of air.  
 “Well, yes.  I've been thinking...”  Randa waited.  “...it's time to put the past to rest.”  
 “Hum hmm.”  
 “I love you—very much,” Heyes continued.  “And then when I thought that I might lose you after finally coming to realize just what a true friend you really are, well I just couldn't...what I mean to say is, well—I want to marry you and I suppose I was just hoping that maybe you might want to marry me too.”  
 Miranda smiled to herself, but kept her tone neutral.  “Oh...is that it?”  
 “What!?”  Heyes was almost indignant.  “Well I...”  
 Miranda giggled like a playful girl and rolling over onto her knees, she faced her man and putting her arms around his neck she looked straight into his dark brown eyes.  
 “Yes, of course I'll marry you,” she answered him.  “After all I've gone through simply for falling in love with you?  I completely expected to get a ring out of this!”  
 Heyes grinned and then laughed out loud as he pulled her into an embrace.  He took her face in both his hands and still laughing, he kissed her and she leaned in to return it whole heartedly.  
 “Oh!”  he exclaimed, coming up for air.  “Speaking of a ring.”  
 He reached over to his saddle bag and digging into one of the pockets he pulled out a bundled up handkerchief.  He smiled again, and unwrapping the material he uncovered a dainty little gold ring that  was adorned with one diamond held in a raised setting of latticed gold with intricate designs trailing away on either side, making their way around the band.  On closer inspection there were also two other smaller diamonds set right into the band on either side of the larger center piece.  
 Miranda caught her breath as Heyes took her left hand and slipped the ring onto her finger..  She gazed at it, momentarily speechless.  This condition did not last long however.  
 “And they tell me men are no good at picking out a ring,” she stated.  “How in the world did you afford it!?  Oh dear!  I suppose it was rude of me to ask that.”  
 Heyes grinned again; Randa's blatant openness was one of the many things he had come to love about her.  
 “That's alright,”  he assured her.  “I've been saving my winnings from the weekly poker games.  I had a feeling I might be needing some funds sooner or later.”  
 Miranda laughed.  “Gambling money!”  
 “Better get used to it sweetheart,” Heyes warned her cheekily.  “It's what I am.”  
 Miranda took her eyes off the ring and smiled into his eyes again.  “Don't I know it,”  she said and they came together into another kiss.  
 Heyes held her close, and supporting her head as they continued to kiss, he shifted around and gently settled her down on her back in the soft summer grass.  And they continued to kiss.  
   
 The newly betrothed couple stepped into the cafe arm in arm.  They stopped for a moment and surveyed  the numerous occupied tables in the establishment before Heyes' eyes settled on the large group in the center.  This particular table was always reserved for the larger parties coming in for lunch and it was not unusual for the Jordan/Gibson group to take possession of it on Sunday afternoons.  
 The couple headed over that way and nodding a greeting at everyone there,  Heyes pulled out one of the two empty chairs for Miranda to settle into before taking a seat himself.  Everyone seemed to be smiling at them.  
 “So...”  Belle started the conversation.  “did you two have a pleasant morning?”  
 Miranda beamed.  “Yes.”  
 Suddenly a high pitched yelp came from Beth and all eyes were instantly turned to  her.  Jed's heart rate jumped to twice it's normal, thinking that his wife was having some kind of relapse but as soon as he saw the look on her face he relaxed.  Her eyes were wide and sparkling with delight and then she laughed and pointed.  
 “Miranda!  You're wearing a ring!”  
 Instantly everyone's attention was focused back onto Randa and she actually blushed though she smiled with pleasure.  
 “Joshua!” Belle accosted him.  “You finally asked her!”  
 “Well, it had to be the right timing and everything,” Heyes explained.  “One can't just rush into these things you know.  It takes planning and a well thought out strategy...”  
 “Yes, I could tell,” Randa teased him.  “After you stopped stammering.”  
 “Oh, now come on...”  
 The table erupted in laughter then Tricia stood up and came around to where her cousin was sitting and gave her a huge hug.  Tricia more than anyone else knew how difficult this past year had been on Miranda, waiting for Hannibal to finally make up his mind.  
 “Congratulations, love,” Tricia told her.  “I'm so happy for you.”  
 "Thank you.”  Randa's smile wouldn't quit and she gave her cousin's arm an affectionate squeeze.  
 “Yes.  Congratulations,”  Belle seconded.  “Looks like we have another wedding to plan!”  
 “Oh I can hardly wait!”  Beth exclaimed, all excited for more nuptials.  “I must let Bridget know—and Clementine!”  
 Both Heyes and Jed rolled their eyes at the mention of Clem's name, but of course, she seemed to have weaselled her way into this family as well, so she would have to be informed.  
 “Do you have a date in mind?” asked the forever sensible Belle.  
 “Oh,” Heyes looked over at his fiancee.  “We haven't really....”  
 Belle smiled.  “No, of course you haven't.  It's too soon.  You have plenty of time.”  
 “Congratulations, Hannibal.”  David raised his coffee cup to them.  “Looks like you're going to be a part of our family now.  Miranda, I'm happy for you.  You deserve a good man in your life again and now that I've gotten to know these two reprobates I think I can honestly say you've made a good choice.”  
 Miranda smiled shyly.  “Thank you, David.”  
 “Yeah,” said Heyes dubiously.  “Thanks.”  
 “No getting out of stretches now, Han!”  
 Heyes groaned.  “Well, I suppose she's worth it.”  
 “Ohh!  Thank you,” Miranda threw back at him.  
 Heyes sent her his most impish smile and he was instantly forgiven.  His gaze then drifted over to land on his cousin who was being uncharacteristically quiet during this happy occasion.  But the look that Jed sent back to him instantly put Heyes' concerns to rest.  Jed was smiling at him; a quiet, honest, open smile.  A smile that spoke of love and hope and relief!  Relief that his older cousin had finally laid his troubled past to rest and was willing to pick up the threads of a happy life and move forward with it.  
 The two friends locked eyes and a world of understanding passed between them. The other occupants of the table fell silent, respectfully giving the partners their moment of communication.  Then Jesse waved over to the waitress and broke the spell.  
 “I understand it is Sunday,” he announced.  “but this calls for a celebration.  Two bottles of wine if you will, and the best lunch the house has to offer.”  
   
 Heyes rode up the long low hill, heading away from town feeling strangely anxious about his upcoming engagement.  Why would he feel so nervous about this?  It wasn't as though this were a complete stranger—this was a friend; someone with whom he'd spent many a long hour, shooting the breeze and gossiping about mutual acquaintances over a pot of tea.  Why would he feel so nervous about coming up to do just that same thing again?  
 Heyes took a deep, cleansing breath as he allowed Karma to pick her speed and her footing up the lane towards their destination.  It was a sunny bright day, but the wind was chilly, especially up on the high knoll like this, with no cover from the elements.  Still, it was pleasant enough and Heyes had his coat on and buttoned up so he'd be warm enough for an extended visit and then of course, the gift he had brought for them to share could not help but warm him from the inside out.  
 So they continued on up the lane until they came abreast of the white picket fence and Karma stopped on her own accord, wisely realizing that she at least could not go any further.  She tossed her head and played impatiently with her bit while Heyes dismounted and gave her an affectionate pat on the neck.  He moved back to the saddle bag and unbuckling the strap he dug into the bag and pulled out the new bottle of whiskey he had just bought down at the saloon.  It wasn't top shelf, but it was still good quality and besides, it was the best that Heyes could afford on his honest earnings.  His friend would understand.  
 He placed the bottle down on the ground, resting it safely against the gate post and making sure that it was out of the way of his mare's hooves—just in case.  He returned to his saddle bag and digging into it once again he withdrew his hand holding two shot glasses between his fingers.  These he also placed on the ground beside the bottle, making sure they were out of harm's way.  
 Karma was tossing her head, becoming even more impatient with this seemingly pointless ritual.  They'd had a deal after all and she was ready to hold up her end of it.  Heyes chuckled at her antics and gave her neck a scratching along the crest, under the mane—a favourite spot of hers.  She however was not to be placated so easily.  She knew what she wanted, and her human had promised her.  
 “Alright,” he finally obliged her.  “A deal's a deal after all.”  
 He stepped back to the saddle again and hooking the stirrup up onto the saddle horn he unbuckled the back cinch and then undid the girth and the breast strap.  Then in one quick smooth motion he pulled the saddle and the blanket off the mare's back and set the whole contraption down on it's face and leaning against the picket fence.  He turned back to the mare and unbuckling the throat latch of the bridle, he gently pulled the headstall over her ears and allowed the bit to drop out of her already opened mouth.  
 “There ya' go,” he said to her with another pat on the neck.  “Graze away to your heart's content.  Just don't go wandering off okay?  By the time I'm finished here I don't expect to be able to make it back home all on my own.  I'll be needing you to get me there.”  
 Karma snorted and then with another toss of her dark red mane she danced around her human and  trotted off to that lovely patch of left over summer grass she'd been eyeing.  As soon as she got there, her head dropped to ground level and she began to graze in earnest and without too much concern over what her human was planning on doing for the next few hours.  
 Heyes stood and quietly watched her for a few moments, thinking that his mare was getting way too spoiled; she spent half her life out on grass for goodness sakes!  He shook his head and with a soft smile he turned and picked up the liquor bottle and the two glasses and then pushed open the gate to the little cemetery.  He stepped through, closing the gate behind him and was again surprised at the knot of apprehension that instantly invaded his gut.  This was silly, he told himself; just what exactly did he expect was going to happen here?  Still, he felt the presence of sacred ground under his feet and he took a moment to survey the small enclosed area where the human history of the town lay buried and honoured.  Without thinking, he took his hat off and held it to his chest as he slowly started to walk in amongst the wooden crosses and small headstones of the dearly departed.  
 He took a few moments to read some of the inscriptions and though most of them didn't mean anything to him, he did recognize some of the surnames that were present.  Names engraved in stone of relatives who had gone before, laying claim to a long lineage of families and homesteaders who had built up this town and the land surrounding it.  He continued to slowly walk on until he stopped in his tracks at the sight of two tiny little markers that were tucked in a corner and that did mean something to him.  The family name on both markers was the same; JEFFERIES and then the given names; Mary on one marker, and Joseph on the other.  Biblical names given to infants who never saw the light of day and were therefore never christened.  And then the inscription, the same on both; Never knowing life but forever in our hearts.  And then the year; 1887 on the one marker and 1888 on the other.  
 Heyes almost felt sick with shame at the sight of those tiny little markers standing vigil over the tiny little graves.  He squatted down in front of them and ran his hand along the inscriptions.  He remembered his callous remarks when he'd heard that Sam and Maribelle had lost their baby.  He had been so angry back then, so ready to blame somebody—anybody else for his predicament, even an innocent still-born infant whose loss would have surely broken it's parents hearts.  And then to have it happen a second time...  
 Heyes had already made his peace with Sam, but now he made his peace with Sam's children.  He apologized to them for being such a vindictive, self-righteous bastard and that he had really never meant any harm.  Perhaps...he asked them...if they happened to meet up with Jenny and Becky would they mind passing on his love to them?  Because, of course all children must be in the same wonderful place; there was no doubt in Heyes' mind that they were.  
 Finally he stood up and carried on walking down between the individual markers and family plots that made up the extent of the town's cemetery.  Heyes was surprised at how many of the markers indicated young children and others, like the Jefferies; giving only the year and no date of birth or death and it broke Heyes' heart to know that those ones never took a breath of life.  When young Becky had died he had felt so violated, so angry that the fates had done that to him.  Oh, how selfish he had been.  How shallow!  
 He was only one of many.  And this was a small town cemetery.  What of New York or Philadelphia?  How many children and infants would those cemeteries show?  Heyes was hardly the only person on the planet to lose a child—good heavens!  Abi had lost two!  And even that was not a rarity.  
 Heyes' heart ached; he missed them both so much.  But at least he knew that Anya was alive and well and though Abi's letter had been awfully final, perhaps one day, it was still possible that they would come to know one another as father and daughter.  Maybe, one day.  But at least he knew she was alive and for now, that would have to be enough.  
 He carried on walking, not intending to look at any more headstones until one that seemed to contain more information on it than the others couldn't help but catch his attention.  He stopped in front of it and felt a deep sadness and regret once again.  Not because he had known this family personally, but because he remember how this loss had so dramatically affected David, how hard it had been on him.  And it also brought back the pain that Heyes himself had been experiencing with the loss of his 'first patient' there at the prison infirmary.  
 The family name was engraved across the top of the headstone in capital letters; ROBERTSON.  Then beneath that was the name; Wendy Elizabeth.  February 9th 1855 – October 15th 1886 and then below that another name; Caleb Floyd.  October 15th 1886.  Then the inscription; Beloved wife and mother. Cherished son.  Rest with the angels.  
 Heyes stood quietly in front of this marker for some time, the inscribed words on stone again bringing home to him the fragility of life and how selfish he had been.  Selfish to not only believe that he was the only one to suffer losses of this kind, but also in thinking that he had the right to callously take his own life.  He went back in his mind to that time and felt ashamed of himself for the fear and pain he had caused his friends, that he had caused Jed.  Jed of all people!  No wonder his cousin had been so angry with him later on; he'd had every right to be.  
 But at the time it had seemed that he was doing Jed a favour; getting out of his way so that he could get married and move on.  And also, in a twisted kind of way it had seemed to Heyes that ending his life was the only way he had available to him to keep on living.  The only way he had to escape the reality of the prison and pass over into a beautiful place full of peace and contentment and where he could be with his friend.  
 Now he just shook his head and realized how far gone his mind had been.  It's not that he no longer believed that there was something else awaiting him, only that his attempt to get there in that fashion would not have given it to him.  That wasn't the way.  
 Heyes sighed and moved on again, this time adamant that he refrain from looking to read any more inscriptions but search instead for the one that he had intentionally come to visit.  It didn't take him long; Joe had said that it was in the back row, down in the left hand corner and so Heyes gradually had made his way down in that direction.  Then he saw it; a simple but pleasing headstone with a basic inscription, like the man himself.  WALTER 'DOC' MORIN  April 4th 1821-June 14th, 1888.  Best damned doctor that never went to school.  
 Heyes smiled.  Yeah; that's Doc alright.  Heyes ran a caressing hand along the headstone and  looking around he settled himself down on the grass facing the marker and put the bottle and glasses down on the ground in front of him.  
 “Howdy Doc,”  he greeted his friend and then he swallowed suddenly, as his throat tightened up on him and he thought for one terrifying moment that he was going to start crying.  But he knew Doc wouldn't appreciate that, would probably start swearing at him and call him a bloody fool and get a fucking grip why don't ya'!?  Yeah.  Heyes forced a smile, listening to the Doc's words echoing through his mind.  Yeah, get a grip.  
 “Well, here I am, Doc,”  Heyes continued when he could.  “I finally made it.  You haven't been around to visit for a while so I figure you're content with the way things turned out.”  Heyes stopped here and took a deep breath, almost losing control again.  He tightened his lips and looked away for a moment, gazing over at his mare but not really seeing her.  “I sure do miss ya', Doc.”  He gave a little cough and then turned his attention back to the headstone.  “Anyway, I know you're not really here anymore but you said you'd come back to say 'goodbye' as long as I brought along a bottle of whiskey for us to share, so, I did.  I know it's not top shelf, but I didn't think you'd mind too much.  It's still pretty good.”  
 He opened the bottle and poured out an equal amount into each glass and picking them both up he raised one in a toast and then tapped it against the other one.  
 “Here's to ya', Doc,”  he said, and then poured the one glass over the grave and downed the other in one quick gulp.  He smacked his lips and then shrugged.  “Yeah, not bad.  Another?  Sure, why not.”  
 And so it began, and continued well into the afternoon.  
 “That was quite a tangled web we had to unravel wasn't it,”  Heyes commented between toasts.  “I'm glad we found out for sure who killed you—and yes, I know you knew all along!   But nobody was believing me, Doc.  We had to have more to go on than just your say so.  I know you would know better than anyone else, but nobody was going to take the word of a ghost—you're not even suppose to exist.  We had to get some real evidence and thankfully good ole' Carson  'that fucking prick'  Yes yes, I know!  But thankfully he was just arrogant enough to admit to it!  Then everyone else was willing to take my word on that."    
 “Because I'm still alive, Doc, that's why! Like I told ya'; nobody was willing to take the word of a ghost.  Here, have another shot of whiskey; you need to calm yourself.  I thought you had gotten passed all this stuff.  Didn't you say you were ready to move on now?  Can't move on if you're still holding onto anger like that.  No I'm not trying to tell you what you can and cannot do!  I know it's your death and you can do whatever you like with it!  Geesh!  Still a crotchety old man, aren't ya'?  Here, have another drink."  
 “That's not bad stuff is it?  Goes down real smooth.”  Heyes poured them both another and then sat silently for a moment, his mind going back a short distance in time and his eyes turning to sadness.  “Did you see her Doc?  No, what am I saying?  Of course you did.  Beautiful, isn't she? So much energy!  I wonder how my parents handled the lot of us—ha.  How Abi handles just one of her!  She's doing a good job though, isn't she.  Abi's a wonderful mother.  Don't know what kind of father I would be; nobody's giving me the chance."  
 “No, I'm not feeling sorry for myself, just stating a fact!  I'm forty years old and have nothing to show for it.  It's time I got on with the important things in life.  What was that?  Life begins at fifty?  I sure hope I don't have to wait until I'm fifty before things start to turn around for me!  Yes, I know Doc; age is just a number.  Easy for you to say, what do you have to worry about?  My baby cousin has scooted passed me.  Those five years of being locked up really put a dent in my plans.  What do ya' mean; What Plans!?  I donno!  Just—plans!  You know.”  
 Silence again for a moment while they shared another drink.  “Do babies grow up where you are, or do they stay as they were when they died?  I wonder what Rebecca would have looked like now.”  He smiled with reminiscence.  “Probably much like her sister.  That would make sense, wouldn't it?  Still it would be nice to know.”  
 He sighed again and stared at nothing.  “So...it's over.  She and Anya are well and truly gone this time  It's over.  I can't blame her; things got pretty hairy there at the end.  Dangerous, yeah.  I don't blame her for wanting to keep Anya away from all that.  I mean, we did agree, didn't we?  It's not like she just pushed me away again, grabbed Anya and disappeared.  We agreed this time that it would be for the best.  And, as usual she did turn out to be right; it really would not have been safe to bring Anya back here.    
 “Even now with that Baines woman dead and her sister disappeared to parts unknown it's too late.  We've both moved on and I suppose as others have pointed out; perhaps we've outgrown each other.  Moved down different paths, need different things from a partner now.”  His look became haunted as other memories invaded his thoughts.  “I wonder if I'll ever see Anya again.”  
 He sighed sadly, the haunted look remaining for an instant longer.  He straightened up and smiled brightly, a mischievous sparkle lighting his dark eyes.  “Miranda is a real spark though isn't she!  I...I think...you know; I think we can make a go of it.  I felt kind of guilty at first.  You know—how could I be in love with Randa when I was still missing Abi so much?  Or maybe Hester is right; maybe men do get over a broken heart faster than a woman does.  I donno.  I'm never going to forget Abi, that's for sure.  But still, I really do want to settle down now and make something real, something I can be proud of.  I have the beginnings of that with Randa.”  He smiled whimsically.  “She bright and witty, and she keeps me on my toes—really catches me flat-footed sometimes.  But I don't feel like we're always having to compete, you know?  I feel relaxed with her.”  
 He paused for a moment, a slightly worried expression creasing his brow.  “I hope that doesn't mean I'm going to get bored with her...”  He smiled again as a love-light glinted in his dark eyes.  “No.  No, I won't get bored with her.  Never...  
 “Yes, Doc, I know!  She's a very pretty, intelligent and wealthy woman and I'd be a damned fool if I didn't snatch her up right away before someone else moves in and takes her away from me.  Well, if somebody else can turn her head that easily then maybe I'd be better off if she did leave.  Oh will you stop calling me a damned fool!?  I'm not going to back out of anything.  Marriage is a big step you know.  Neither one of us wants to rush into this—geesh, don't ya' think I've had enough heartache in my life already?  Not to mention what Miranda has been through with losing her first husband and then—well, all this stuff...with Amy.”    
 Heyes sighed and his mind's eye turned back in time—to a time he didn't like to go to but he was pulled there unbidden and he became reflective.  
 “I remember, during my trial,” he began quietly.  “the prosecuting attorney, Mr. DeFord.  I remember feeling so angry at him, so resentful that he would insinuate that I was a sociopath. I just...I thought it was laughable.  I thought, 'who's he trying to fool here?'.  People would know, people would be able to tell if there was something wrong with me like that.  
 “But now, I just don't know anymore.  I thought I knew Amy.  Hell—I thought I could read people, that I could know what they were just by talking to them, by spending time with them.  But Amy.  I never saw that coming Doc.  I thought she was a friend—we all did.  Poor Beth.  I don't know if finding out that the loss of their first child was a deliberate act of treachery helped them or not.  On one hand they feel a lot more confident about succeeding next time, but on the other....it was so hurtful to know that it was planned.  And by someone we had all come to trust—to think of as one of our own.  
 “I suppose what I'm trying to say is; Amy kind of knocked the stuffing out of me.  I mean, if I could be so easily fooled into thinking that someone that twisted was actually a good and kind person, then how could I be sure that Miranda is who I think she is?  I was so afraid of getting hurt yet again that I almost walked away from a wonderful woman.  I love Miranda.”  Then fear clouded his eyes again and he bit absently on his lower lip.  “But what if I'm wrong?  
 “What do you mean I'm over-reacting?  Yes, I know Miranda has always been honest with me—even when I thought she wasn't. I felt bad about that.  Here I was quite willing to accept Amy's word that Randa had been 'checking up' on me and it never even occurred to me to ask her about that; I simply assumed that Amy was telling the truth.  
  “Okay, I suppose that does show that Randa has always been true.  I do love her, Doc, I just want to be sure that's all.  Of course I did ask her to marry me and I meant it!  I still mean it, yeah.  I love her very much.  I think I'm just running scared, that's all.  Stepping off into rechartered territory!”  
 Heavy sigh. Covering his mouth as a whiskey sodden burp made itself to the surface. “Oops, pardon....nothin in life is sure, yeah I know...so what if I'm contradicting myself!  I know I said I wanted to get on with my life—yes, I know.  I love Randa, I really do and I think she loves me too—well, I mean; she says she does, so....and she said 'yes!' didn't she?  I suppose I'm just feeling a little un-nerved by all that's gone on here..What do you think?  
 “Well there's no need to get angry.  I know you've already told me what you think.  I'm just, well I'm just asking you again, that's all.  I wouldn't feel right talking to anybody else about it.  It's just, you know; before the wedding jitters I suppose.  But I don't mind talking to you about it because I feel very confident that you won't tell anybody else.  Yeah that's suppose to be a joke!  Geez, Doc, what happened to you sense of humour?  Oh right—you never did have a sense of humour so why start now?  
 “Yes I know.  Yeah, it is time I settled down.  If I want to start a family then I better get on with it.  Yes I know. No, I doubt I'll ever find another place like this—you're right about that.  There's good people here...”  Big cheeky grin.  “...I even like the sheriff!  See, Doc?  That's why I talk to you about this stuff; you always have a way of putting it into perspective.  I sure miss ya', Doc.  Damn that Carson!  I could just kill him for taking you away from us...oh yeah right; I did kill him.  Yeah, well...”  
 Heyes became quiet for a moment, his mood becoming sad.  Then he forced a smile and picked himself up again.  
 “Did you see Jed and Beth's wedding?  Of course you did,” Heyes' face broke out into another huge grin.  “Beth was radiant!  Gotta say that Kid was too, but I'd never say it to his face though—he'd probably end up shooting me.  But still; it was great to see them both so happy.  It was a long time coming and now I guess I am glad that they waited for me.  It was real nice to be there and to stand beside him as he got married.  It was real nice.  Hopefully he'll do the same for me and Randa.  Well of course he will—why wouldn't he?  I think he's about as excited as anyone that I've finally asked Randa to marry me.  
 “I'm glad I was able to give him something to be happy about and to look forward to again.  It sure is a shame, what happened.  They were both so excited...yeah I know, they'll probably have others.  Oh!  No probably about it huh?  You already know this for sure do you?  Oh.  You do.  Well, okay I can pass that along to them....not sure if they'll believe me or not.  Even Kid used to look at me kinda funny when I'd tell him that I'd been talking to you.  Like he thinks my brain got addled in prison or something and I haven't quite recovered yet.  Still, he'll be pleased to know—he sure does want to have young'uns.  
 “Oh!  You want to make a toast?  Yeah, alright.”  Heyes poured out two more glass fulls for them to share.  “Now you want to make two toasts?  Well, we have enough whiskey Doc, so go ahead.  'To Jed and Beth, okay... If they'd just relax and start going at it like rabbits again, like they did on their honeymoon, Beth will be in the family way before they know it'!?  Well what kind of a toast is that!?  What do ya' mean; what's wrong with it?  Well, I donno...it's kinda rude.  You know.  Not very respectful.  Yeah, yeah alright.  I know that's just the way you are—boy do I know that's the way you are.  No!  Nothing, I didn't mean anything by that.  Here!”  Heyes quickly tapped the two glasses together in the toast in order to calm his friend down.  “Here's to Jed and Beth and their speedy...ah....well...to Jed and Beth!”    
 He poured the Doc's drink over the grave and quickly downed his own.  The glasses were instantly filled again and then Heyes waited expectantly.  “Okay Doc, what was your second toast? Oh,”  Heyes became solemn.  “Well that's real nice of ya', Doc.  Thank you.  Yes, I think Miranda and I will be really happy together too.  But that means a lot coming from you, because I know you don't mince words and you say what you mean.  Thank you.”  He tapped the glasses again and the liquid was disposed of in the usual manner.  
 Heyes sat quietly again for a moment, contemplating life—and death.  “Ya' know Doc, the best thing about spending some time with you on the 'other side' is that I really don't fear death now.  I mean, don't get me wrong; I'm not going to be chasing after it anymore—no.  No.  I'm not in a hurry anymore.  I figure I've got a lot of life left to live and I'm not in any hurry to cut it short. But I'm not afraid of it, not like I used to be.  I know now that nothing bad is going to happen, and that's a comfort, ya' know?”  
 He continued to contemplate, his brow creased in concentration as he remembered a passed moment in time.  
 “There was a book of poetry that I found in the prison library,”  he commented softly.  “It was one of those books that had different poems in it, you know; written by different authors.  There was this one called 'Life' and damned if I can remember the name of the fella who wrote it but one of the lines in it really stayed with me.  He said  'Death is not the end of all.  Yet just the close of a glorious fall'.*  I didn't really understand what he was getting at then but I think I do now.  
 “I think he was just saying that death isn't something we need to fear; that it's just the next step in an on-going process.  
 “Funny thing about that though, is that knowing that there is no punishment awaiting me on the 'other side' doesn't make me feel as though I have licence now to just do whatever I feel like.  It's kind of the opposite.  I feel like it's more my responsibility now to live a good life, an honourable life.  Like the choice is being placed into my own hands as to what kind of life I'm going to lead; what kind of a legacy I'm going to leave behind.  And I want it to be a good one, Doc, like you.  
 “I still don't really understand where you are, or even what you are.  Was my time with you simply a product of my delusional mind, or was it a true glimpse into the afterlife?  Were you  really fighting to get a message through to me or was all that just my brain trying to deal with all those horrors I'd been through?  
 “Those nightmares were terrifying, Doc!  If you were deliberately sending those to me I oughta smash this bottle over your headstone.  Ahh, but then that would be a waste of some pretty good whiskey.  Now, you don't need to be getting all riled up on me—and I'm not being an ass!  Well, okay maybe I am a little bit, but c'mon, Doc!  Those nightmares were awful.  It's a terrible thing when a grown man is afraid to go to sleep.  
 “I would have listened to you otherwise. Sure I would have.  STOP SWEARING AT ME!  Oh, now look.  You made me scare my horse.  It's alright Karma—I wasn't yelling at you!  Now look what you've done—my own horse thinks I'm crazy; sitting here and yelling at nobody.”  Heyes gave a frustrated sigh.  “No, I'm not saying that you're nobody, Doc.  It's just that nobody can see you.  Hell, I can't even see you.  So who the hell am I talking to anyways?  
 “NO!  Doc, don't leave.  Not yet.  I didn't mean nothing.  C'mon, we still have half a bottle here to finish up.  C'mon, have another drink with me.  What were we talking about?  Oh yeah—the afterlife; legitimate or farce?  I still don't know for sure.  But then, there is Carson.  He admitted to killing you exactly the way you told me he did and there's no way I could have known that myself.  So....Am I ever gonna see ya' again Doc?  You know; over there?  Are you going to wait for me?  
 “Of course I want to see ya' again!  That's why I'm asking!  Yeah, I remember you saying that; that I could see whoever I wanted to see once I get there.  But you also said that you folks don't hang around forever—that you move on.  I mean, I intend to live for quite a while yet; I've got my whole life ahead of me.  So everybody might be gone by the time.....Oh there you go swearing at me again.  I'm not stupid!  What kinda talk is that?  Geesh!  
 “Well it's kinda hard to not think in a straight line, Doc.  Life as we know it goes in a straight line.  I don't understand what you mean by time folding over on itself.  What the hell is that suppose to mean?  I swear Doc—you call me stupid one more time and I'm gonna get up and leave and take the rest of the whiskey with me.  Well now calling me obtuse is just the same thing as calling me stupid.  
 “Yeah, well...you want another drink or don't ya'?  Yeah, okay.  Here.  So basically you're saying that no matter how long I live for, the folks who have gone on ahead of me will still be there to see me when I do come—as long as I want to see them.  Okay.  I can live with that.  NO!  I'm not trying to be smart—it's just an expression.  Geesh you're getting touchy in your old age.  Maybe you shoulda died younger Doc, so you wouldn't have been stuck with such a snarky temperament for all eternity.  
 “What a surprise!  You've had a snarky temperament all your life!  So do you intend on having a snarky temperament for the rest of your...hmm...existence?  Or do you think you might lighten up a little bit?  What do ya' mean; what for?  If we all have to spend eternity with you don't you think it would be more pleasant if you would just try not to be such a grouchy old man?  In your next life—oh well, okay.  
 “Gee, I guess it's starting to get kinda dark here; I should probably be heading home while we can still see the road.  Hmm, one more drink each and that should about finish this bottle off.  Here ya' go Doc; here's to ya'.  You were a good friend during a terrible time in my life and I'm never gonna forget ya'.  Don't know if I'll name my first born son after ya' though—hmm, Walter Heyes.  Well, that's not too bad I suppose, or how about Doc Heyes!!  Yeah!  I like that!  Oh now you're swearing at me again—maybe I'll just call him Morin Heyes—oh no!  That's too close to moron.  Poor kid would get teased endlessly.  
 “Anyway, at least I'm doing things in the right order this time eh, Doc?  Get married first and then start having children.  I think Miranda would make a great mother, don't you?  I know she's kinda dubious about it, but once the young'uns started coming along I think she'd do just fine.  Yeah I think she would. And little Sally certainly made a point of getting to know Miranda so I doubt there would be any problem with adopting her once...you know, we're married.  I would have brought Sally home ages ago if circumstances had been different.  So, maybe if Randa is agreeable....OH.  I shouldn't bother saying 'if'?  You're that certain are you?  Oh well, okay Doc.  
 “Well, I guess I should get going.  It's been real nice sitting here and sharing a bottle with you.  Maybe we can do it again sometime.  Would that be okay?  Can I come back and see you again?  Doc—are you still here?”  Silence.  Deep sigh.  “That's typical—as soon as the whiskey's gone you disappear. OH!  Well I thought you were gone!  You were, but you couldn't leave a comment like that go unchallenged.  Right.  
 “Oh—you're gonna miss me too?  That's nice, Doc.  Yeah, I will take care of myself now.  You don't need to worry about me, I'm not gonna do anything stupid.  So you're going?  Will you be back Doc?  Will I ever see ya' again in this life?  Time for me to move on—yeah, I suppose.  Thanks Doc—thanks for everything...”  
 Heyes sat in the grass as the gloaming gathered around him and he knew he was alone.  He took one last look at the headstone, reading the inscription again and thought back upon the life of a man who was not afraid to buck convention.  Not afraid to bitch and grouse and swear his way through his world and yet still manage to leave behind in his wake so many good deeds and loving friends.  
 Heyes knew that if he could give back to this world half of what the Doc had given, he'd be a better man.  Doc had raised the pole high but Heyes was always up for a challenge.  He looked around him through the gathering dusk, feeling the breeze ruffle his hair and watching it play with the mane flipping on Karma's neck.  Yes, life was a challenge—but it was a noble one and he was ready for it.    
 Hannibal Heyes stood up and turned his eyes to the heavens and he smiled.  He might be an ex-outlaw, and an ex-convict but he had been through hell and high water and he had come out the other end of it, wet and chilled to the bone, but still fighting!  He had his friends and his family all around him and love and compassion had replaced anger and resentment in his heart.  
 He was new and he was special and he was ready to start again so fall in line or get out of the way, because this time around, it was going to be glorious!  
   
   
THE END  
   
   
'Life' by Peter Ellstrom Deuel.  

When I see those pine trees oh so high  
Stretching up to reach the sky  
I no longer wonder at that mystery:  
God's creation of you and me.  
Life and death, so often feared  
Is by nature so beautifully cleared.  
When one observes the leaves in fall  
Where is no solemn deathly pall  
But a brightness and color that means but one thing  
That life is restored the following spring.  
Death is not the end of all  
Yet just the close of a glorious fall  
To be followed as soon as one's faith has been sought  
By the eternal spring for which us God has wrought.

1956

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming soon 'The Lineage'
> 
> Recommend you read InsideOutlaw's prequels to this story:
> 
> 'Movin' On' and 'End Of An Era'.
> 
> They are posted over on fanfiction.net


End file.
